Trust
by Elfpen
Summary: "Of course I could have killed you. I could kill you right now. I could've killed you days, months, years ago, whenever I liked. It'd have be easy, easier than blinking. But I never have, Arthur. And I'm not going to. Not ever." REVEAL FIC NON-SLASH
1. Why

A/N: My first Merlin fanfic. It's an old horse, the 'reveal' plotline, but I thought I'd give try my hand on it anyway.

This fic is set in the future, which should be obvious.

It's unusual for me to make my characters curse in my stories, but I've come to realize that they are entities apart from myself and that I should keep them in character, even if that means using offensive language.

Enjoy!

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><p>The battle had been two days ago.<p>

Morgana had died two days ago.

The war had ended two days ago.

Merlin had _saved_ _him _two days ago.

Arthur had learned two days ago.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

And for two days, the King of Camelot hadn't said a word.

Now, Merlin was back in Camelot. Those who had seen him, and even those who had _heard_ about what had happened dared not go near him; even Gwen had her reservations. Merlin tried not to look at any of them. Their gazes hurt too much, and he needed all his constitution for what lie ahead of him. He quickly knocked on the huge wooden door, and was let in. His bootheels clacked loudly on the stone floor of the throne room. Arthur had his back turned.

The room rang with silent tension, the flurry of thoughts between king and warlock seeming to make an audible din that both drowned out and strengthened the silence. Merlin, who'd known this moment would eventually, inevitably come, spoke first.

"Arthur, I'm sorry." It was little more than a whisper, but it cut through the air like the blast of a trumpet.

The most frightening part of Arthur's response was the fact that he didn't say anything. He didn't _do _anything, for a long while. Then, he turned on his heel and fixed Merlin with the most horrible, deadly glare that he'd ever seen on the king. Arthur stepped towards Merlin, once, twice, thrice, ever increasing in speed until he was marching full speed toward the serving boy with no signs of slowing down. He stretched out his hand, and it was all Merlin could do from taking a step backwards.

Suddenly, Arthur's fist was closed around his throat, and Merlin could barely breathe. The King squeezed, and fixed Merlin with a hard glare, as if daring him to do something to stop him. When the warlock did nothing but look at Arthur with apologetic eyes, hands clasped calmly behind his back, Arthur's resolve began to waver. Suddenly, Merlin noticed the intense waves of sweat pouring down Arthur's brow, and the furrow of confusion and hurt that was slowly gaining purchase over his face. Then, with every feeling in the world all at once,

"_Why?_" Arthur screamed. He tried to say something else, but his mouth fumbled and he choked on the words, so he screamed again, "_Why,_ Merlin, damnit, _why?_" The king shoved Merlin away by the throat.

Merlin staggered back. He was too shell-shocked to respond. He'd expected a lecture, not a questioning. All those years ago, when he'd first entered Arthur's service and determined that Arthur mustn't ever find out about his magic, he'd never counted on the fact that one day, he'd have to explain his deceit not to his prince, but to his friend. He couldn't say anything.

"I-" He coughed away the results of Arthur's death grip, "Arthur… I'm sorry-"

"_NO!" _He screamed, "Don't say that! If you were sorry, it wouldn't be like this! If you were _sorry,_ you wouldn't have _LIED TO ME!_" Arthur's voice echoed off the walls menacingly, condemningly. Still, Merlin couldn't say anything. The words 'I'm sorry' burned on his lips again, but he feared Arthur might hurt him if he spoke again. The king continued, "You're a _sorcerer!_ You're a bloody _dragonlord! _You're.. You're…" Arthur struggled with the name. "You're _Emrys!_" Arthur stared at Merlin in raging bewilderment before stepping in his face once again. "Don't you think I would've liked to have known that?"

Merlin could feel his voice waver. "Yes, Sire."

"Don't call me that," Arthur spat out. He seemed to want to say something, but was too wrapped up in his emotions to say it. Eventually, "Why did you never tell me?"

Merlin swallowed hard. "You would have killed me, s- Arthur."

Arthur just stared, long and quiet. Then, he spoke a knife into Merlin's heart.

"Merlin, you were my _friend_."

Merlin felt as though he were living a nightmare. Then the knife twisted in further when Arthur added quietly,

"I _trusted_ you."

The unshed tears burned almost as much as his throat, but Merlin refused to give in to either.

"And I you, Sire." He managed.

Arthur looked slightly surprised, and slightly offended. He turned away. Merlin tried desperately to swallow the aching lump in his throat. He knew this conversation wasn't over. It was a few minutes before Arthur turned and spoke again.

"How long?" He asked simply. Merlin kept his face still as he replied,

"Since before I can remember."

If Arthur was surprised, he didn't show it. "Why did you come to Camelot?"

Merlin was nonplussed for a moment. "To live," He said. "My mother, she feared I would be… noticed too easily in Ealdor. She sent me to live with Gaius – he knew more about magic than she, how to control it. She thought he could help me."

"And why did you enter my service? Why did you-" he paused, as if it pained him to admit it. "Why did you save my life?"

Merlin hesitated. Morgana may have been dead, but the war for Albion was not over. He couldn't mention the destiny that Kilgarrah had spoken of just yet. "You were a prince," He said, "I was a peasant. You were helpless, and I could do something." He looked honestly into the eyes of his monarch. "So I did."

It was Arthur's turn to look nonplussed. An honest, self-sacrificing _sorcerer,_ under his very nose? Saving his very life? _Merlin?_ He shook his head. "I… I just don't understand." He said. "It's not… You're a sorcerer."

"Yes." Merlin was still growing accustomed to the response.

"…And you saved my life." Arthur regarded the other man, and for just a moment, Merlin though he'd begun to calm down. Then, the anger and confusion returned, and Arthur shook his head. "No, no, there has to be some other motive, some other reason. You're a _sorcerer!"_ Arthur's voice rose in volume again, "You should have _killed_ me by now! You can, surely!"

Merlin knew he couldn't stay silent any longer. He had to take a stand for himself.

"Of course I could have killed you," The strength in his voice surprised even him. "I could kill you right now. I could've killed you days, months, years ago, whenever I liked. It'd have be easy, easier than blinking." Arthur seemed incredibly disturbed by his words, but Merlin quickly softened and added hastily, sincerely, "But I never have, Arthur. And I'm not going to. Not ever." He stared his king straight in the eye. "Sorcerer or not, Arthur, my loyalty always has and always will lie with you. You should know that by now."

Merlin was afraid to breathe. Arthur wasn't saying anything. Had his words had an effect? Had he condemned himself? How would Arthur react? A million possibilities flew through Merlin's head, but out of all of them, none of them amounted to what happened next.

"So it has," Arthur murmured. Then he slowly turned, glanced at Merlin uncertainly one last time, and walked away.

Alone in the throne room, Merlin felt the adrenaline and anxiety and mixed up emotions slowly clam down inside him. His mind jumped back a few minutes, to that split-second long glance that Arthur had given him just before he'd gone. In it, Merlin had seen something that sparked a little life inside his chest.

Its name was Hope. Merlin wondered whether it would live or die.

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><p>AN: More to come! Hope you enjoyed it. Read and review, please!


	2. In Ashes

If asked, Arthur honestly couldn't have told anyone exactly what he was thinking about. He wasn't even sure he knew himself. A million thoughts circled around inside his head, fading in and out of each other like a messy braid of confusion, anger, and fear. Scenes raced through his head in random succession, each one revolving around the recent battle. It had been a huge, bloody affair. He remembered fighting for his life alongside his knights. He remembered seeing Moragana's face for the first time in nearly two years. He remembered the hatred in her eyes as she cut him down with magic. He remembered watching her advance toward him. But what came after that was still something Arthur didn't quite believe.

_Morgana stepped closer to Arthur, glare unwavering as she unsheathed her dagger, one that Arthur had given to her for her birthday so long ago. Oh, cruel irony. She drew nearer, and Arthur tried to move away. Then, suddenly,_

"_Get away from him!" It was Merlin, covered in blood and dirt and lord knew what else, interposing his skinny, weak body between the King of Camelot and the most powerful sorceress of their age. Arthur was sure that they would both be dead within the minute._

"_Merlin, don't!" He managed around a rib that he felt was broken. Merlin didn't move._

"_You should listen to him, Merlin," Morgana spat, not slowing her pace towards Arthur. "No matter how much I would enjoy killing you, my quarrel is not with you; it is with him." She glared at Arthur and stepped forward. Merlin stood his ground._

"_No it's not," he said. Both Morgana and Arthur seemed surprised at his words. "It's with Emrys." He said, and swallowed hard. "He's the one you're really after, isn't he?" Morgana looked simultaneously furious and terrified._

"_What do you know about Emrys?" She snapped, slowly turning her dagger toward Merlin. Still, the servant didn't budge, standing loyally by his master._

_When Merlin opened his mouth to speak, Arthur wasn't sure he recognized the voice that came out. It was too confident, too commanding. It was so unlike Merlin, and yet, the truth behind it sent a harrowing chill down Arthur's spine._

"_Everything," he said. Morgana was clearly enraged, but for a long moment, she said nothing. Then, she hissed,_

"_Who is he? Where is he?" She stepped forward and seized him by the neck, her dagger not far from his jugular. "Tell me!" She pressed the blade against his skin._

_For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Merlin didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, with some difficulty around Morgana's hand and her dagger, Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur. _

_It was the face of a man he'd seen a million times, but he didn't recognize him at all. The face of a fool now seemed the face of a sage, a once cheeky smile somehow set in a resolute line, and those aloof blue eyes suddenly filled with a sadness that went beyond anything Arthur would have ever associated with Merlin, a sadness that somehow communicated a message before Merlin looked away:_

_I'm sorry._

_Sorry for what?_

_The answer came soon after. Merlin slowly turned back around, and Morgana must have seen the same uncharacteristic face that Arthur had, because from his place on the ground, Arthur could read her expression of surprise. Then, to the further shock of king and sorceress, Merlin said, in a voice that was both loud and soft,_

"_I am Emrys."_

_Morgana staggered back, but recovered quickly and dashed to plant a dagger in Merlin's chest. Panicked, Arthur tried to rise and found himself screaming "MERLIN!" at the very moment when Morgana flew backwards through the air, dagger spinning off to one side. Astonished, Arthur turned to his servant, just in time to see Merlin's eyes ablaze with golden magic. Then, he lowered his hand, his eyes returned to their normal color, and he looked at his master._

_So very, truly sorry._

_Merlin rushed off in pursuit of Morgana. Arthur knew he should follow, but found that he couldn't. His mind was wiped blank from shock._

_Was 'sorry' really enough?_

And now, two days – no, make that three; it was nearly dawn – Arthur sat at the dying embers of his fire, chin planted in his fist, jaw tense, eyes a millions miles away._ Emrys, Merlin. Merlin, Emrys. _The names echoed in his mind, back and forth and simultaneously until they sounded disgustingly similar. He wished the thoughts would stop pounding in his skull, that he didn't have to think about it, that he had never found out that Merlin was a sorcerer, or Emrys, or a Dragonlord for that matter.

Arthur gritted his teeth. He'd nearly forgotten about the dragon. It had come careening in like a nightmare from nowhere, blasting fire at Morgana's army of mercenaries from above. Arthur had been shocked enough to find out that it was still alive. Then, he learned of its true loyalties when it landed just in front of Merlin, addressed him by name, and bowed its head low. That's when Merlin began speaking to it in the dragon tongue.

Arthur looked disdainfully at his glass of ale and, with all the frustration built up inside, pelted it into the fire, where it hissed and fizzled out into the hot ashes. The door to his chambers creaked open.

"Is everything alright?" Gwen knew the answer was 'no', but she felt obliged to check anyway. Arthur didn't respond. She came in and saw the broken glass on the hearth. "I'll get you another, if you like." She offered. Still no response. She turned away to get a glass, and Arthur stared some more into the dark. Gwen lit a few candles. It was a long time before she set another glass in front of him – this one with tea rather than ale, along with a small loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese. It took an even longer time for Arthur to respond. When he did, it wasn't to the food.

"What do I do, Gwen?" he asked, utterly helpless. "He says that his loyalty has always been with me. But all this time… All the lies…"

"You know why he did it," Gwen said quietly. "He would have been executed." She thought he might get mad, but Arthur seemed to have already been thinking along the same lines.

"I can't blame him. But I can't _not _blame him. I was his _friend_, wasn't I?" He looked up at her, eyes shining with hurt and confusion.

"But you could have been his enemy," she reminded him. Her words made Arthur frown, and after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"I could have. But I wouldn't have." Arthur frowned his own words and realized that he'd heard them before. "In the throne room, earlier," he told Gwen, "Merlin said that… That he could have killed me, whenever he liked, but that he never would have, because he is loyal to me." Arthur looked thoughtful. "I could have killed Merlin with a word, had I known he was a sorcerer. But I wouldn't have; he's my friend." There was a long pause, and then Arthur looked up to his lady with the most lost, confused expression she'd ever seen.

"But what is there left now?" He asked her in a whisper. She took her time before answering.

"Trust," She said simply. He didn't look like he'd been helped, but he turned back to the fire, his face torn by exhaustion and confusion. He'd left his food and drink untouched. Gwen quietly left the room. Outside the window, unmindful of her king's internal conflict, Camelot rose to another morning.


	3. For You

Arthur wasn't sure if the blue cloak actually helped conceal his identity on these clandestine escapades, but regardless, it hid his face and made him feel safer. He had too much on his mind to have people staring at him as he wandered the castle grounds past dark.

The king had walked to Gaius' quarters dozens of times, but for some reason, recent events made it seem strangely alien to him; as if they, along with everything else in Arthur's life, had changed overnight. Arthur wasn't sure if Gaius would be awake at this time of night. He knocked anyway.

It took a minute, but soon Gaius was at the door, a hastily donned robe still unbuttoned at the collar of his nightshirt. The healer lifted a candle to the hooded figure outside his door. "Arthur?"

"I need to talk with you," Arthur said quietly, "About Merlin."

Something like apprehension shot through Gaius' eyes for a split second, but then he sighed and stepped aside to let Arthur inside.

After he'd lit enough candles for the two to see each other, Gaius offered the king a glass of warm cider, which he declined. Shrugging, the physician poured himself a glass and sat down across from his king. The candlelight flickered in silence for a while.

"I suppose this is about Merlin having magic, isn't it?" Gaius asked at length.

"You knew." It was a statement, not a question.

"I did. From the moment he stepped foot in Camelot." Gaius paused, and with the tiniest of smiles, added, "He saved my life on the day we met, you know. I didn't even know his name, much less who he was, and he saved my life."

Arthur ignored the last bit of what Gaius had said. "Merlin says his mother sent him here, to you."

"She did. Hunith didn't know enough about magic to help Merlin properly. She and I are old friends, and she knew I had experience in the magical arts. She trusted me to keep her son's secret and help him learn to master his abilities."

Arthur frowned. "Are you saying you practice magic as well?"

"No," Gaius replied quickly, "I _have_ practiced magic in the past, but not since your father had it outlawed. I put those ways behind me long ago. Law is law," he said, then added cautiously, "no matter how misguided it may be."

"And yet you let Merlin practice magic under your very roof," Arthur looked genuinely perplexed. "Why not just tell him to stop?" Arthur was somewhat surprised to see Gaius smile

"After sorcery was banned, I had the choice to stop practicing magic," Gaius said sadly. "Merlin did not have that luxury."

"What do you mean?"

Gaius took a deep breath and leaned on the table to look Arthur in the eye. "Merlin does not possess the magic that you and I normally associate with sorcery," he explained, "He never had to study, never had to learn any spells or incantations. He was able to use magic before he knew how to walk, Arthur." Gaius let that sink in. "Merlin is the very last thing Uther considered when he banned magic – a sorcerer who can be nothing else, a boy who has no choice." When Arthur said nothing and watched Gaius with intense interest, the healer continued. "When Merlin first came to stay with me, he had no control over his powers. He worked purely on instinct, and it was bound to get him executed." He shook his head ruefully. "Luckily, when it comes to magic, Merlin is a quick learner."

Arthur sat back, contemplating what he'd just learned. Merlin had been born with magic? Without really realizing it, Arthur had assumed that Merlin had been away with some old hermit hag learning chants and spells and bewitchments. But to be _born_with it? Arthur had never considered such a thing.

"Why have I never heard of any other sorcerers like that before?"

Gaius shrugged. "Because no one has. To date, I don't know of any sorcerer quite like Merlin, save Morgana."

Arthur's face darkened at the mention of the name. "Morgana?"

The physician nodded. "Morgana's powers were similar to Merlin's – she was born with them, unable to control them. However, they became evident much later in life than Merlin's." Gaius frowned sadly, and looked out the dark window for a moment. "In many ways, Morgana and Merlin were very much alike. I only wish Morgana hadn't chose the path that she did. It's a miracle Merlin didn't wander down the same way years ago, before he came here."

"What do you think kept him from it?" Arthur asked, genuinely intrigued.

Gaius shrugged. "Merlin was raised in a world hostile to his kind, but the ones who raised him knew better. Hunith knew that magic was not evil – how could it be? She taught Merlin to think the same, no matter how much everyone else hated magic. Still, when he came here, he was conflicted over his abilities." Gaius' voice had dropped to a whisper. "He told me once that he thought he was a monster, a creature of evil. I spent some time convincing him otherwise."

Arthur looked guiltily down at his lap, trying to imagine Merlin, foolish, idiotically brave Merlin, wrestling year after year with his own nature. He couldn't meet Gaius' eyes.

"Morgana, on the other hand, didn't have the support that Merlin has. She was raised by the enemy of all things magical; Uther could never offer her anything but opposition and pain. Everyone around her told her that sorcerers were good only to be burned at the stake. She was scared, alone, and in danger. She reached out to anyone who she thought might understand. Unfortunately, Morgause got to her before Merlin could try and help her himself."

Arthur nodded slowly, taking in the information one bit at a time. He was silent for a long time, and Gaius sipped at his cider absently. After what could have been minutes or hours, a thought began to creep up the back of Arthur's mind. He knew Morgana was an extremely powerful sorceress – the most powerful of their age, some were saying, and now Gaius was telling him that in many ways, Morgana and Merlin were similar. Did that mean…

"Gaius," Arthur looked up and met the healer's gaze. Apprehension written all over his face, he asked, tentatively, "Exactly… How powerful is Merlin?"

Barely visible, a smile spread across Gaius' face, and his eyes lit up with fatherly pride. "Merlin is _Emrys_," He said quietly. "The druids have spoken his name for hundreds of years now, in tones reserved for legend and prophecy. He is the most powerful sorcerer who has ever lived."

Arthur's emotional reserves had ran out of shock several days ago, but confusion, fear, and hurt were still in plenty supply. He looked away.

"It's… A lot to take in." Gaius said, and gave the king a silent moment to himself before adding, "You should know, Arthur, he's wanted to tell you for years, but wasn't sure how. He was terrified that you might kill him, or abandon him entirely."

Arthur almost wanted to laugh. "_He _is afraid of _me_? He's the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and he fears _my_ wrath?" He shook his head, nonplussed. "Why?"

Gaius looked at his king, as though the answer were obvious. "You're his friend, Arthur. Even if you threatened him with execution, Merlin wouldn't even dream about raising a hand against you. His power has no limits, but his heart certainly does, and in his heart, he knows that he could never harm you. That's not what his magic is for," Gaius told him carefully.

_That's not what it was for_. Arthur closed his eyes, and suddenly, an image flashed before his eyes: Merlin, in the throne room, eyes downcast, hands submissively folded behind his back, his throat seized by Arthur's own fist. But unlike what he had seen in the throne room days before, in his mind's eye Arthur could see the power and magic rippling just beneath the surface, held at bay only by an unwavering loyalty and, somehow, friendship. Inexplicably, Arthur found it hard to think, let alone speak.

"Then what _is_ it for?" He asked Gaius at length, through a thick voice.

Gaius leaned forward once more. "You."

"I- I'm sorry?"

"You couldn't know it, Arthur, just how much magic Merlin has put into your life, how many times he's defended you and those you love with the very thing you hate. His life has revolved around you since the day he arrived here, and from that day, magic has been a part of it. He's saved your life more times than I know, and laid down his own without a thought, all for you." Gaius looked Arthur in the eyes as he said, barely above a whisper, "He knows you've hated magic all your life, Arthur, but he also knows that if anyone is going to change that, it will be him. And he is willing to place his faith in those he trusts, no matter the cost."

Arthur could do naught but sit and stare, in silence. A long moment passed.

"You are Merlin's life work, Arthur Pendragon. He could never end your life, no matter if you ended his or not."

And suddenly, Merlin's words, old and new, came rushing back.

_You don't know how many times I've saved your life!_

_Do you know how many times I've had to save your royal ass?_

_I'll be where I always am, by your side, protecting you._

_I trust in your destiny._

_We'll finish this, Arthur. Together._

_Together._

Arthur could feel his throat shaking as he tried to comprehend it all. It was too much, too much at once. This was going to take time. He blinked rapidly and looked down at his own hands where they lay in his lap. Gaius read his expression and let him alone for a long time. Then, gently, he laid a hand on the king's arm.

"Not too long ago, Arthur, I told you that one day, you would learn, that one day, you would understand just how much your people have done for you," He said gently. "And now, I hope you're beginning to realize what I meant." He gave Arthur's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and gave him a few more minutes of silence before saying, not unkindly, "You need to sleep, Arthur."

"What?" Arthur came out of deep thought, and swallowed thickly. "Yes… Yes, of course…" He rose dumbly and walked to the door. With his hand on the latch, he stopped and turned. "Gaius?"

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Thank you. And… I'm sorry."

Gaius offered him a smile. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Arthur."

Arthur wasn't sure about that, but he nodded compliantly and stepped out. He found his chambers in a daze of wordless thought and managed to make up his bed and snuff all the candles by himself, but as he lay his head down, he couldn't help but think it:

_Merlin would have normally done that._

But somehow, Arthur knew Merlin wouldn't ever be doing it again; too many things had changed for that to happen.

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><p>AN: Just so you know, I didn't actually look up any of the quotes from the show that I used in this chapter. If I've gotten them wrong or missed some entirely, you can blame my miserable memory skills. Read and review, please!


	4. Watch and Wait

Sometime after Arthur had left, Gaius sighed and turned around to look at Merlin's bedroom door.

"You can come out now, Merlin."

After a moment of silence, the door creaked open and Merlin guiltily walked down into the room. "How'd you know I was there?" He asked incredulously.

"Merlin, give me some credit. I may be old, but I'm not as deaf as you may think, and you've lived here long enough for me to know what your footsteps sound like." He poured a cider for the boy and motioned for him to sit down. "No matter how quiet they may be. So, how much did you hear?"

Merlin shrugged. "Enough," he said. Gaius seemed somewhat displeased with this vague answer, but he let it go. "Arthur didn't say much."

"I don't know if I would, either, in his place," Gaius responded. A moment of silence passed between them. There were plenty of things that they could say – about the confrontation in the throne room, about Arthur, about what Gaius had said, about Merlin's fate, but somehow, both of them knew just as well as the other that for all the potential conversation, this was not the time for talking. Merlin stared down into his cider, warming his hands on the mug.

"Do you think he'll ever forgive me, Gaius?" Merlin asked. Gaius looked at him, and didn't say anything for a long time.

"Give him time."

Merlin frowned slightly. He knew the most he could do at the moment was wait. He wished he could do more. Gaius stood and walked around Merlin, giving the lad a good squeeze on the shoulder as he went, to his bed at the side of the room.

"Everything will be alright, Merlin, you'll see." He patted Merlin's head like a father would to his son. "Snuff all the candles when you go to bed. Goodnight, Merlin."

_Alright._ Everything might be alright, Merlin thought, but that didn't mean that anything would ever be the same, for better or worse.

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><p>Merlin watched the sunrise over Camelot from his perch on a small knoll just outside of the western forest. It was a chill morning, and Merlin's breath rose in a cloud of steam from where he sat, arms wrapped around his knees. Any other morning, he would have been smiling. The birds were chirping, the leaves were rustling, and the morning bells of Camelot were tolling their clanging welcomes to the new day. However, the brightness of day had been tainted that morning, by a churning storm of doubt that had Merlin's brow drawn together in a worried frown. He'd hardly slept a wink last night, after Gaius had called him out. What he'd heard last night made him even more antsy and frustrated than he had been before. Arthur hadn't acted or sounded like himself. Merlin knew he was taking the whole ordeal incredibly hard, and he wished he could do something to help, but he knew he couldn't. He hadn't seen Arthur in person since their conversation in the throne room days prior, and, seeing as it was <em>Merlin <em>who had caused the King's distress, he could effectively do nothing but watch and wait, while the fates of both he and his friend hung in the balance. Merlin sighed into his knees and watched the distant guards on the battlements. Arthur had been telling him for years that he was utterly useless. Merlin had never truly believed him, until now. It was one of the most crucial times of his young life, and he could do absolutely nothing but sit there. He _was_ useless.

"Merlin?"

Merlin recognized the voice and looked over to his left, where Gwaine was climbing up to Merlin's lookout spot.

"Gwaine," Merlin started to stand, but the knight put out a placating hand.

"No need to get excited," He said. "I saw you come out here a while ago." Gwaine sat down heavily next to Merlin. "Thought you might want some company." He smiled. In the time that Gwaine had been speaking, Merlin had simply stared at him. After a few more seconds of silence and staring, Gwaine frowned. "What?"

"You're talking to me."

Gwaine frowned. "Yeah, I am, as a matter of fact. That surprising?" He raised an eyebrow.

Merlin raised his in return and looked away. "Last I checked, knights of Camelot don't usually get chatty with known sorcerers."

Gwaine shrugged. "Good point. Though, between you and me, that sorcerer we saw out on the battlefield a while back didn't really look much like a sorcerer."

Despite himself, Merlin was offended. He raised an inquisitor's eyebrow at Gwaine. "Oh really?"

Ignoring Merlin's dark expression, Gwaine shook his head. "Nah, not at all. Scrawny, for one thing. Dirty, for another. Brave, perhaps, but stupid, facing up against Morgana by himself." Gwaine shook his head again. "No, he didn't look much like a sorcerer."

"And what _did_ he look like?" Merlin asked dryly. Gwaine fixed him with a small smile.

"A friend." He said. Immediately, Melrin's face softened and he looked away. Gwaine's smile grew.

"Honestly, Merlin," He beamed, throwing an arm roughly around Merlin's shoulders, "did you think I'd forget our friendship so easily? So you're a sorcerer – that _is_ bit shocking, I admit – but I know that beneath all the magic and dragons and surprises, you're still Merlin."

Merlin wanted to thank him, but could only sigh and look away. "I wish everyone thought like you do, Gwaine."

Gwaine's smile left his face and he dropped his arm from Merlin's shoulders. "I heard about what happened in the throne room," He said, and Merlin looked at him in surprise. "No details, mind you, but word got around with the other knights and myself. I'm sorry Arthur's taking it so hard."

Merlin shook his head. "It's not your fault. I just… Wish I knew what to do."

Gwaine looked uncharacteristically pensive for a moment before he said, "Wait, I suppose."

Oh, how Merlin was beginning to despise that word.

"Now come on," Gwaine changed the subject, scooting forward so he could see Merlin a bit better. "Let's see it, then."

"See what?"

"Your magic! I didn't exactly get a good look at it during the battle, fighting for my life as I was, and I'd like to know what it looks like." When Merlin did nothing but stare at him in confusion, he gave an encouraging smile. "Oh, come on, Merlin! I just found out that my best friend is one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world! Of course I'm curious – please, just a little magic?"

Although the charming smile and pleading had no effect on Merlin whatsoever, two little words convinced him to humor Gwaine. _Best friend_. Merlin couldn't hold back a tiny smile. "Alright. What do you want me to do?"

Gwaine paused momentarily to run through the possibilities. A slow smile spread across his face. He nodded over towards a pine sapling that grew a few metres away. "Can you turn that tree a different color?"

Merlin frowned. What an odd request. "Maybe," He said, "I've never really had a reason to."

"Well now you do," Gwaine said, assuming his request was sufficient reason. "How about a lovely, bright shade of pink?"

After giving Gwaine a thoroughly puzzled look, Merlin shrugged and took a deep breath, mentally constructing a spell that should do the trick and trying to ignore the fact that Gwaine was staring at him. _"Crohmcran __bándearg__,"_ he said, nodding toward the small pine. He could hear Gwaine gasp when his eyes flashed gold. Then the knight turned to look at the tree, and he erupted in laughter.

"Ha! A pink pine tree! Perfect!" He slapped Merlin on the back and beamed at him, and Merlin just had to smile back. "A sorcerer indeed, my friend! A scrawny one, perhaps, but no matter. That was brilliant!"

"You think so? I mean, my magic, I don't – that is, it doesn't… scare you?" Merlin asked apprehensively. Gwaine continued to laugh.

"Of course not! You're still Merlin, as I said, and I trust you." His words meant more to Merlin than he could ever know. Still smiling, Gwaine continued, "Besides, do you know how much _fun_ this could be?"

And for whatever reason, Merlin wasn't sure he liked that tone of voice.

* * *

><p>AN: I think I might have gotten Gwaine grossly out of character in this. You will have to tell me what you think. Read and review, please!


	5. Not Alone

A/N: Just so you know, you reviewers are _amazing_. All of you have made my week.

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><p>"Gwaine, I really don't think this is a good idea."<p>

"Oh, don't be such an old mother, Merlin. It'll be _fun_!"

"So you keep saying."

Merlin and Gwaine were crouched behind doorway, watching the rest of the knights (save Gwaine – and Arthur, Merlin noticed) come in from morning training. Sweaty, dirty, and hungry, They joked with each other as they shed their red cloaks and chainmail and headed for the table full of food that waited for them. Unnoticed by the laughing comrades, Merlin yanked on Gwaine's sleeve and pulled him around the corner.

"Gwaine," He said in a reasonable tone, "Need I remind you that sorcery is _outlawed_? Much less, I _just_ revealed myself to be one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. Arthur's throwing a fit, the court is divided, these knights whom I call my friends may very well _despise_ me for it, and here you want me to _pull a prank_ on them?"

Gwaine turned a mocking pout in his direction. "Aw, are you scared, Merlin?"

"_Are you mad?"_

The knight shrugged. "Maybe. Now come on, while they're distracted." He motioned for Merlin to peek back around the corner.

"Gwaine, seriously, I really don't think I should be doing this. They'll hate my magic when I haven't even gotten a chance to talk with them about it yet!"

"Merlin," Gwaine turned to his friend, a serious expression on his face, "One thing you should know about knights," He grabbed Merlin's shoulder with a steady hand and looked into his eyes. After pausing for effect, he broke into a huge grin once more. "_We_ actually have a sense of humor."

"With magic?"

"Well, I'd guess so. Never really had the chance till now, but I'm sure it'll be a laugh." Gwaine looked at Merlin, earnestly this time. "Trust me."

_Damn Gwaine and his stupid charisma_, Merlin thought. "Fine. But I'm only doing this once. I won't be part of your stupid pranks after this."

Gwaine nodded. "Whatever you say, Magic Man. Ready?"

"No, but with you around, it seems I have no choice. Scoot over, will you?"

Gwaine obliged, and Merlin shuffled into position. After making sure that none of the knights were paying attention, he raised his hand toward the pile of cloaks and armor.

"_Crohmrinn __bándearg__."_

And suddenly, inexplicably, those magnificent red cloaks were pinker than a freshly scrubbed sow. Despite himself, Merlin smirked and added, _"S__uaith__féilea__"_ And the imposing gold dragon on the crest of Camelot transformed into a purple butterfly. Behind him, Gwaine was barely containing his laughter. _Now for the complicated bit that may or may not get me killed._ Merlin peered over at the knights, who were gathered around a table, eating. He hoped they'd eaten enough to mellow out their short tempers. He looked back over at the cloaks. _"__E__iti__l__ chea__n__ar__úinéirí__," _He said, and all at once, the cloaks sprung from where they lay and whizzed over to the knights, each one to its respective owner, and tied themselves around the knights' necks, fluttering as they went.

"What the-" Leon dropped his spoon his lap.

"Gahk!" Elyon choked as his cloak yanked him backwards.

Percival went to draw his sword, but he'd unbelted it earlier, so he drew out air instead.

"Why's it _pink?_" Leon cried. And that's when Gwaine started laughing. At first, amid the kerfuffle, none of the other knights noticed. But then, starting with Percival and ending with Elyon, the pink-clad knights slowly noticed those familiar guffaws and turned to stare.

"Oh," Gwaine wheezed, holding his sides, "Oh, your faces!" He staggered into the room with three incredibly un-amused glares fixed on him. "Gentlemen," He bowed, "A new wardrobe change, courtesy of Merlin here," He turned to indicate Merlin, but the warlock was nowhere to be seen. The rest of the knights suddenly gasped, then chuckled. Gwaine turned. "what, giggling over your new dresses? I must say, the color suits you, ladies." He grinned slyly.

Leon snorted. "You too, mate," he said, smiling. Confused, Gwaine glanced down at himself, and jumped.

"What in- _MERLIN!"_

"I _told_ you I didn't want to do it." Merlin stepped out of the corner where he'd been hiding. All of the knights, save Gwaine, were laughing. Merlin just couldn't help it. He joined in. "Leon's right, Gwaine, pink _does _suit you well," He said, smiling. Gwaine seethed.

"Looks like the joke's on you, Gwaine," Elyon snickered.

"Was that magic, Merlin?" Percival asked.

For an answer, Merlin stepped forward and extended his hand toward the knights. _"D__ath bunaidh,"_ his eyes flashed and the capes returned to their original red. The three seemed momentarily stunned, but at least Percival gave him a small smile. Gwaine regarded the young warlock incredulously as he realized that his own cloak hadn't been included in the last spell. Merlin turned to face his accusatory glare.

"What? It was your idea. I thought you might fancy the color."

Gwaine lunged at him, but Merlin quickly ducked out of the way and scurried to hide behind Percival.

"Merlin! This wasn't part of the plan!" Gwaine growled.

"_Your _plan, mind you, the one you roped me into!" Merlin dodged from Percival's right shoulder to his left as Gwaine threw a punch. "Don't worry, it'll be back to normal in about oh… Three days."

"Why, you…" Gwaine threw another punch, but the sorcerer ducked again.

The other knights were chuckling good naturedly at Gwaine's expense, all except Percival, who was trying not to get punched as he played his part of human shield. "Alright," he said, catching Gwaine's fist, "Take a joke, Gwaine. Merlin, I'm not a barricade."

"Sure are big enough to be one," Merlin quipped, and ducked away quick enough to escape before Percival could cuff him upside the head.

"Please," Leon said, "sit down, Merlin, there's plenty for you and Gwaine. Gwaine, wipe that look off your face. This was your own doing. Well, save for the magic."

Gwaine grumbled and untied his cloak, tossing it dejectedly into a corner. He fell into a seat beside Merlin, glaring at the young magician. Then, slowly, he shook his head and his frown turned into a smile. "Make that _cheeky_ scrawny sorcerer," He said. Merlin smiled.

"I see that the reports are true," Leon said, fiddling with his tankard, "though if what I hear is true, you didn't defeat Morgana with pink cloaks." Leon was no longer smiling, nor was Merlin or anyone else around the table. Of all the knights, Merlin knew that Leon had been around the longest, and was probably the most loyal to Arthur out of all of them. He would probably be the most reluctant when it came to magic.

Merlin glanced at the tabletop for a moment, then forced himself to look back up. He wasn't going to assure them of his loyalty with cowardice. "No," he conceded.

"So you _were_ the one who defeated her?" Elyon asked. He'd heard the reports, but since he hadn't seen anything during the battle, he hadn't been sure.

Merlin shrugged and was unable to keep the defensive tone from his voice when he said, "I had to – she was going to kill Arthur."

There was a brief silence around the table, before Percival finally said, "Well, I'm glad you did." He and the warlock shared a small smile. Leon interrupted,

"And the dragon?"

Merlin swallowed when he realized that even Gwaine was looking at him in genuine curiosity now. As if being a sorcerer wasn't bad enough - now he had to admit about the dragonlord bit, too. How far would this go before they started to hate him for all the lies? All eyes were on him.

"I'm a dragonlord." He said. No one spoke. He felt incredibly uncomfortable. "Well, the last dragonlord, actually." He looked down at his lap. "But the, that's probably… Well… Obvious, all things considered…"

"But, Merlin… The last dragonlord died years ago, when the Great Dragon attacked Camelot," Leon was simultaneously stunned and confused.

"Balinor," Merlin said. "The dragonlord's name was Balinor." He waited until he saw the recognition in Leon's eyes before he continued, "He was my father." Merlin dare not look at anyone, for fear that he might lose his nerve when he saw their shock. "When he died, I inherited his gift."

And of course, that darned _silence _took over again. Leon spoke again – he was the only knight who remembered Kilgarrah's siege on Camelot. "Merlin, I… I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"Neither did I," Merlin said, "Until just before I met him." He gave a stiff smile. "I only knew him for a few days before he died."

Leon nodded. He opened his mouth to give some words of consolation, but then he realized that under the present circumstances, Merlin probably didn't want to talk about it. He stayed silent. Then, a thought came to him. He looked up at Merlin with new realization.

"It was you, wasn't it, who sent the dragon away."

Merlin was momentarily surprised, but then nodded. "Yes."

"Arthur didn't wound it at all, did he?"

Merlin shook his head. "Barely a scratch."

Leon paused, then added out of nowhere, "And in Morgana's siege, it was you who defeated the immortal army, wasn't it – by some sort of magic."

Merlin tilted his head for this one. Excaliber wasn't really _his_ magic – in fact, it'd one day be Arthur's if he had his way, but then again… "Yes," He conceded. Leon scoffed in astonishment, and slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"It's _always_ been you, hasn't it?"

Merlin looked around to find all of King Arthur's knights looking at him with awe and respect. In a way, he was glad. But the attention made him feel terribly uncomfortable. He had to say something.

"If you mean to say that it's been me who's making sure The Prat doesn't get his royal ass killed, then, yes, it _has _been me all this time."

At that, everyone, even Merlin himself, laughed. At length, Gwaine raised his tankard.

"Well then, His Royal Pratness should be proud." A momentary cloud passed over the faces of those present when they remembered their king's current confliction over Merlin. It passed quickly. "To Merlin," Gwaine turned to look at the warlock as he said, "a loyal friend."

"To Merlin," they all echoed, and Elyon added: "And may Arthur see it, too." Merlin gave the man a grateful smile.

As they drank together, Merlin felt a small weight lift off his chest. The battle to prove his loyalties may not have been over yet, but as he sat with the knights he'd long called friends, he began to realize something that would've given heart to any struggling soldier: He wasn't alone. And in a war where waiting was his only option, even that small knowledge was enough to give him hope.

* * *

><p>AN: In case you're wondering, the spells Merlin uses in this chapter and the last are all my own frankensteinian creations, using predominantly Irish gaelic words with some arbitrary editing from myself. The meaning of the words themselves are very simple. For instance, the spell in the last chapter roughly (_very_ roughly) translates into something like: _"Turn tree color: pink"_Or at least infers something along those lines.

Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you enjoyed it. (or even if you didn't)


	6. Idiot

Slowly, without having ever been told to, Merlin resumed his normal duties about the castle. Or at least, he tried to. Interactions with people were difficult, but there were still just as many floors, windows, dirty clothes and boots in Arthur's chambers as ever, and they were all in dire need of a scrubbing since Merlin last saw them.

He minded his work subconsciously, hardly having to pay attention to the menial tasks he'd done a thousand and one times before. He hadn't spoken to Arthur in several days. They'd seen each other often enough, but they hadn't spoken since the confrontation in the throne room. Merlin had been at his job long enough to know what to do when, and in his current state, Arthur was more than happy to let him go about his day without any prattish nonsense. Occasionally, Merlin would catch Arthur looking at him with a calculating gaze, calmly but cautiously studying his every move, as if he was trying to relearn something that he hadn't thought of for years. But then they would make eye contact, and Arthur would look away. Other times, Merlin would catch him sitting by a window or a fire, when he thought he was alone, just staring. He wondered what ran through the King's mind behind those stares - if it was about him, his magic.

Merlin sighed and looked down at his own face, a distorted reflection in the newly-polished vambrace. He noticed a smudge and corrected it with the corner of his polishing cloth. "I just wish I knew what he was thinking," Merlin said quietly to his reflection. He'd begun to set the armor aside when a voice erupted from behind him,

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing."

Armor clattered to the ground and Merlin whirled in his seat to stare at Arthur, who was leaning casually against the doorjam. The king straightened and stepped into the room. "At one time, I thought I knew you, Merlin, that you were an open book." He crossed his arms and fixed Merlin with a stare. "I was wrong. However, I think even a riddle like you shouldn't be beyond common sense." He stooped to pick up his two vambraces – one polished, one not. He studied them silently, then looked up to Merlin. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice sounding more Arthur-like than it had in weeks.

Merlin tried to gauge the question. Was this a test? He shrugged noncommittally. "Polishing your armor?" He tried to smile. Arthur frowned down at the pile of armor, half of which had been cleaned and meticulously polished to a shine. It must've taken Merlin the better part of two hours. Arthur turned his frown back to Merlin.

"Why?"

Merlin blinked. His mouth began to form the beginnings of many answers, but none of them seemed to fit, so it came out as a long slur of incoherent nonsense instead. Arthur sighed.

"Honestly, _Mer_lin, I thought you were a sorcerer." _That_ caught Merlin off guard. For a moment, neither man said a word, and instead shared the longest three seconds of eye contact that either could remember, before Arthur spoke again, "Why not just use magic?"

For a moment, Merlin was too stunned to answer. Arthur had just referred to his magic, and yet, he'd done so without condemnation, without anger or hurt or anything that Merlin would have expected. Of all things, he'd asked him _why he wasn't using it._ Merlin was completely nonplussed. "Well," he flustered, "I, eh, that is-um, I was just…" Before he could finish, Arthur sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

"You know, Merlin, this whole…" He gestured vaguely, "…_Magic_ thing changes a lot of things between us. But now I know that at least one thing will never change."

"What's that?"

Arthur shook his head and said, with prattish condescension, "You're still a complete idiot."

If Arthur hadn't stormed out of the room in such a hurry, he might have seen the huge smile that grew on Merlin's face a moment later. _Idiot._ It was the most beautiful word he'd heard all week.

-

After that, the ongoing reconciliation between Arthur and Merlin moved slowly, but surely. They still did not speak as often as they used to, but once in a while they would exchange words and, if Arthur was in a good mood, have a short banter.

Arthur hadn't made any official pronouncement on Merlin as of yet, but it was clear to all of Camelot that he wouldn't dream of harming his manservant, sorcerer or not. Already, the court was divided into two camps: those who viewed Merlin as a hero, and those who did not. If anyone wanted Merlin executed for his use of magic, they were either too cowardly or too smart to say so.

Merlin chose to stay intentionally aloof of his public image. It made him uncomfortable thinking about it, so he distracted himself by attacking his list of chores with extra gusto. However, at Arthur's behest, he took a small amount of magical leeway in the chores he despised most. At present, he was sitting at Arthur's desk re-arranging the king's hopelessly messy piles of paperwork whilst a pair of dirty socks cleaned themselves against a washboard and bucket. Arthur's sword stood in an out-of-the-way corner, sharpening itself with a rhythmic _shink _and overhead, a feather duster whizzed about knocking away cobwebs. For just a moment, Merlin looked up at all his work and smiled. His fate may not have been decided officially yet, but the chance to use magic without hiding was wonderful. He felt _free_.

Naturally, Gwen chose that moment to walk into the room.

For a split second, duster, socks, and sharpening stone all fell to the floor and Merlin felt a sharp jump in his stomach. Gwen looked startled at the unexpected commotion, but when she realized what was happening, she smiled encouragingly at him. "It's okay," She said. "Go on with… Well, just go on." She shrugged, and Merlin gave a nervous smile. His eyes flashed gold, and the sword and socks went back to their maintenance. The duster was feeling stubborn, so Merlin picked it up and flung it into the air, where it finally darted back to place and resumed dusting.

"Eh, Sorry about that," Merlin fidgeted. He realized that Gwen had never seen him use magic before. She was gaping at the washboard, so Merlin couldn't see her face. When she turned around, however, she was grinning.

"No, don't be," She said. She shook her head, still smiling. "I don't know when I'll get used to it, but…" She glanced around and had to giggle at the flying duster. "It's wonderful, Merlin."

Merlin felt his heart lift higher than it had felt in days, and it showed on his face. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do."

They shared a smile, and Merlin thought of just how lucky he was to have Gwen as a friend.

"I did come here to tell you," Gwen said, changing the subject, "Gaius wants to see you. He wouldn't say why, but he sounded rather urgent. He won't leave his chambers."

Merlin frowned. "When did he ask for me?"

"Just earlier, not fifteen minutes ago. He seemed so insistent; I came right up to tell you as soon as I found out where you were."

"I'd better go then. Thanks, Gwen," Merlin said. With a whispered word and a golden glance, the self-animated objects about the room ceased their work, the socks wrung themselves out and pinned themselves up to dry, and the duster fell to the ground. Merlin picked it up and put it away. Before he could get to the door, Gwen called back to him,

"Oh, and Merlin?" 

"Hmm?" 

She stepped near to him and looked up at him with sincere eyes. "No matter what he seems like, Arthur is coming back around to all of… This. It's just… A bit of a shock, is all. Give him time."

Merlin smiled, somewhat halfheartedly. "I know. I know he'll come around eventually. Can't fight destiny forever, after all."

Although Gwen seemed confused by his last words, she smiled and nodded. "Good. Now off you go to Gaius."

Before he got to Gaius' door, Merlin could hear what sounded like tables being knocked over and shattering glass. As he drew nearer, he could make out two voices.

"_Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!"_

"_I'm not you're uncle, now settle down, or you'll break something else!"_

Merlin didn't recognized the first voice, but it sounded like a small boy. The second voice was undoubtedly Gaius.

"_But you are. You are Uncle. Uncle! Uncle!"_

"_Would you be quiet! I don't even know your name!"_

Gaius sounded like he was running out of patience and sanity. Merlin cautiously stepped up to open the front door, and as his hand settled on the latch, the crashing from within suddenly stopped.

_"Father! I smell Father. Father is here! Father! Father! Father!" _

The crashing resumed, and Merlin had only a split second to get the door open before a huge mass of glistening white flesh quite literally flew in his face. From his new position on the floor, Merlin could feel a great squirming weight on his chest. He peered up in confusion and his eyes widened.

"Aithusa?"

The dog-sized dragon grinned and flicked his tail happily. "Father!"

Merlin blinked. "You've grown."


	7. Troubles in Parenting

Finals are over! Thank goodness. Tests went well, I'm home for Christmas, and I have a class on the Middle Ages (we get to read Arthurian legend, too!) to look forward to next semester. Also, I finally have time to write.

A quick shoutout to **Oakleaf**_**, **_who pointed out than in the show, Old English (not Gaelic) is used for spells. From here on out, I'll do my best to reference the proper language – though I apologize in advance if I mess anything up in that sector. I also have her (him? I dunno) to thank for letting me know that Old German was used for the Dragon tongue… Though I've also heard Homeric Greek. Hmm. I'll have to look into that.

Anywho, on with the story!

* * *

><p>Of course, Merlin was not Aithusa's biological father. In fact, scales, wings, and tail aside, Aithusa was centuries older than him – even if many of those centuries had been lived out inside of an egg. Still, that didn't keep the look of pure fatherly adoration from his face.<p>

"Look at you!" He said, trying to pet the excitable dragonling as it stampered proudly in front of its father. "Just… Look at you! You're so big!" In fact, Aithusa was not all _that_ big. He was growing up nicely from the looks of it, but his wings were far too large for him and the whiteness of his scales had been dulled by the constant shedding it took for his skin to grow in time with his body. He had a stray tooth, which seemed intent on growing faster than all the others, that protruded over his bottom lip, and he seemed uncomfortable walking on his thin legs. To top it all off, out of the two ivory horns that peeked up over his crown, one of them had its tip chipped off from where the clumsily growing dragon had fallen at his first attempt at flying. All together, he was a bumbling, lanky, yammering toddler of a dragon who was far too excited for his own good.

To Merlin, he was beautiful.

"Oh, I've missed you," Merlin ran his fingers over Aithusa's crown, his very biggest smile plastered to his face.

Aithusa chirred and eagerly pressed his hand into Merlin's palm. Gaius watched the two with a touched smile, but tense shoulders. Truly, he was glad that Merlin had the opportunity to reunite with his young dragon friend, but there was the matter of his chambers… He looked around and his heart sank. His life's work lay strewn about him, the once impeccably organized collection of books and remedies strewn about the room beyond recognition. He sighed.

"Merlin, I don't want to interrupt,"

"Uncle!" Aithusa looked at Gaius. Gaius didn't know how he should respond, so he tried to ignore the dragon.

"…But there is a small matter…" He glanced about himself. Merlin finally looked at something that wasn't Aithusa, and his eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, no…" The young warlock looked suddenly guilty. "I'll… I'll take care of it, Gaius." He rushed into the room, mumbling things here and there, magically righting spilled bottles and replacing books on their shelves. Aithusa remained innocently plopped in one corner, smiling. Gaius watched the juvenile dragon cautiously, as though the beast would spontaneously combust at any moment.

"Uncle!" it chirped, oblivious to the distress he was causing his family.

Gaius could only stare and sigh. Lord help them all.

* * *

><p>That evening, the physician and his ward, after spending half the day cleaning their chambers, supped together on a hastily brewed pot of stew. They did their best to ignore the dragon, but the attempt hardly lasted five minutes.<p>

"Uncle!"

"Why does he keep calling me that?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin said, setting down his spoon. He turned deliberately toward the dragonling, who had been staring up at them for some time from the floor. "Aithusa," He said, and the dragon perked up at the sound of his name, "Tell me, why do you call Gaius 'uncle'?"

"Uncle!" Aithusa echoed.

"Yes," Said Merlin, with the patience of a father, "but _why_ is he uncle? Hmm?" Merlin had already deduced the reasoning behind his own name, 'father' –after all, he was the one who summoned Aithusa from his egg, he was male, and as the last dragonlord, was in many ways a parent to the young dragon. He supposed that, because of his close relationship with Merlin, Gaius might merit a familial title in Aithusa's mind, but why _uncle? _"Why not… 'Grandfather'?" Merlin asked. Gaius was more like a father to him, anyway. To his surprise, Aithusa looked suddenly sad.

"He is not grandfather. Grandfather died many winters ago. If he had not, Father would not have called Aithusa," The dragon explained.

Merlin frowned, trying to understand. "You mean… My father? Balinor?"

Aithusa nodded his head vigorously. "Grandfather, Father's father. He was brave man. Died for good reason. Sad, but good." He gave the two humans a draconic smile. "But he was helped by man like brother to grandfather. Uncle!" His wings gave a flutter and he rubbed against Gaius' leg affectionately.

Well, that explained one thing, Merlin supposed, but something still confused him. "Aithusa," He said, and the dragon paused to look at his lord. "Who told you about Balinor?"

"Mummy," he said. He resumed rubbing on Uncle.

Merlin's frown deepened. _Mummy?_ But if Merlin was _Father,_ who in the name of Camelot was _Mummy?_ He couldn't imagine. Honestly, it wasn't as though another soul had been there, at Aithusa's birth, it had been only him and-

Merlin blinked. He almost smiled. "Aithusa, what does your mummy look like?"

"Big," Aithusa said absently, gone from Gaius' side to the edge of the table, where he'd found a fascinating knot in the wood, "grumpy. He leaves and comes back lots. Gives Aithusa food." He smiled up at Merlin. "Speaks of Father sometimes. And of Uncle. And Brother."

Merlin chose not to ask about 'Brother' for the time being. He was too preoccupied with his laughter over the thought of Kilgarrah, the Great Dragon, being reduced to the title of _Mummy_ by a mere hatchling. As his giggles intensified, Aithusa looked concerned.

"Father?" He darted over to Merlin's side concernedly, his little lungs heaving with worried breaths.

"It's okay, Aithusa," Merlin patted the dragon's head, trying to stop his own sides from heaving from laughter, "It's alright." This seemed to calm the dragon, though he still looked incredibly confused. "_Mummy_," Merlin chuckled, "Killgarah must be thrilled," He couldn't help but to laugh again. Gaius smiled at him halfheartedly.

"Yes, it's all incredibly funny," He said, regarding Merlin and Aithusa in turn, "But Merlin, haven't we got bigger things to worry about?"

Merlin did his best to stop laughing, but was still smiling as he said, "Like what?"

Gaius scoffed. "Like the fact that there is a _dragon_ in my home, one of only _two_ in _existence_, if you'll remember. Merlin, how are you going to care for him here? He's bound to be noticed, with the ruckus he makes!"

Merlin was suddenly serious. He looked at Aithusa out of the corner of his eye. Innocent, adorable, blue-eyed Aithusa. He had no way of knowing what trouble awaited him here in Camelot, what turmoil and conflict. Yet, Merlin didn't have the heart to turn him away and send him back to 'Mummy'. He looked back to Gaius and shrugged.

"I'm a Dragonlord, Gaius," He said, trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Gaius, "I'm sure I'll think of something."

As they spoke, Aithusa had whipped his overlong tail out to one side and knocked over a stack of books. Gaius raised a skeptical eyebrow at his young ward. Merlin forced a smile and tried to look confident.

"Trust me," he said.

Gaius sighed heavily and glared over at Aithusa. The white dragon ducked his head and looked up in apology. The physician turned his eyes back to Merlin and shook his head. "For all our sakes, let's hope you do, and fast."

* * *

><p>Similar to what Gaius had predicted, hiding a dragon in Camelot had been… Well, like hiding a <em>dragon<em> in _Camelot_. It was damned near impossible. Two days into it, Merlin had snuck out at night and summed Kilgarrah, demanding to know why he'd let Aithusa go to him. The dragon had explained, in rather rushed and frustrated tones (it was obvious he was tired of dealing with Aithusa's irrepressible energy) that the young dragon was beginning to learn the Human Tongue, and, according to tradition and common sense, should master the language under the tutelage of none other than that of a dragonlord. Naturally, the task fell to Merlin.

After a lengthy debate that bordered on all-out fighting, several threats from Merlin to lever his powers against Killgarah and similar threats from Killgarah to forsake Merlin's friendship, dragonlord or otherwise, Merlin eventually gave in and agreed to keep Aithusa for the time being. Though how he would do so, he hadn't the foggiest idea.

"Mummy and Father have been fighting," Aithusa said, cowering slightly behind Merlin as they walked back to Camelot. "Scary fighting."

"Oh, be quiet, you." Merlin snapped back. Then he caught sight of those pitiful blue eyes, and sighed. "Oh, come on, you're slowing me down. Hop up." He opened his arms and Aithusa darted into them, curling up into a compact ball small enough for Merlin to carry without much trouble. Despite the dragon's size, he was incredibly light. Merlin supposed it was due to the fact that one day, he'd have to be light enough to fly. "One way or other, you're stuck with me." He shook his head. "I just hope Arthur doesn't find out about this, or he'll throw a fit."

* * *

><p>Of the many troubles he'd uncovered in dragon parenting, Merlin found that Aithusa's pressing need to exercise his wings was the most annoying. Naturally, Gaius' chambers were no place for a dragon to fly, so Merlin had been forced to develop various methods of smuggling the dragon out to some hidden outcrop or abandoned lookout to allow Aithusa space and height to fly from. After the first week or so, he'd begun to master the practice, or at least, so he thought.<p>

At present, he was leaving Gaius' chambers with a huge bundle of laundry in his arms. If anyone had bothered to look, they might have noticed that one of Merlin's dirty shirts was fidgeting. He hissed at it in a strange language, and it stopped moving with a barely audible, _"Sorry, Father,"_ Merlin looked back and forth in a manner that he hoped looked casual and continued toward the lower portion of the palace, where the servants worked. Unfortunately, because of his pretend errand of laundry, he'd have to take the long way 'round to exit the castle through the servant's exit. He'd have to pass by the royal chambers to get there. It was the trickiest bit of their trek across Camelot and Merlin quietly reminded Aithusa how important it was for him to keep quiet. As they passed by Arthur's door, the king called,

"Merlin?"

Merlin winced visibly. He couldn't keep walking. Arthur would follow him. He had to see what he wanted. Reluctantly, he poked his head in the door. "Yes, Sire?" he forced a smile.

Arthur regarded him for a moment. Weeks after his initial attempt at reconciliation, Arthur still acted uncertainly around Merlin. The situation was made more awkward by the fact that neither king nor warlock quite knew if Merlin was still Arthur's servant or not. However, in times of doubt, Arthur tended to reverberate back to what he was used to. "Doing laundry, are you?" He asked, eyeing the bundle that Merlin carried with him.

"Yes, Sire." Merlin smiled, silently wishing Arthur would let him go.

"Good. Take this too, then, would you?" Arthur tossed a dirty tunic in Merlin's direction. Merlin moved so that it landed in the pile of clothes and smiled. "Yes, Sire, of course, I'll… Sire?" To Merlin's sudden alarm, Arthur was staring at him, that is, at his laundry, in shock. _No,_ Merlin realized too late, _at Aithusa._ Arthur's tunic had knocked the trouser leg from Aithusa's face, which was now peeking through for all to see. Merlin panicked.

"Merlin, what in all the-"

"Arthur, please, I can explain-"

But Aithusa interrupted them both by springing from his hideout and straight for the King of Camelot's face.

"_Brother!"_


	8. Thank You

"Two."

"Arthur-"

"Two!"

"Hold still-"

"Merlin," Arthur grabbed the other man by his collar and yanked him down to eye level. "_there are two of them!_"

"Y-yes, I know sire, now please, you're-"

"I thought there were none."

"Well, there _was_-"

"And then there was _one_ of them,"

"It's just that-"

"But now there are _two_ of them,"

"Yes, bu-"

"And one of them is _in my chambers_."

"Yes, now shhh!"

"_Why didn't you tell me?"_

"Shhhh!" Merlin clapped his hand over Arthur's mouth, and while the king glared at him indignantly over his finger, Merlin tried to remain calm. "Because _this_ would have happened." The sorcerer hissed. "I was hoping he'd grow a bit before I told you."

"Brother!" Aithusa chirped, completely unhindered by the shock and anger written all over Arthur's face. The knight swiveled his head in Merlin's grip to glare at the beast, then turned back to Merlin.

"Mmmhmm hmm _hrmmhurmm_!"

Merlin cautiously removed his hand.

"But it's a _dragon!" _Arthur repeated.

"Yes, _he _is."

"But-"

"I'll explain in a minute, okay? Just quiet down for two seconds - you're injured. Ugh, blood, everywhere…" Merlin looked at his hand, which had several streaks of Arthur's blood on it. He turned to glare at his young reptilian ward, who cowered guiltily. In his excitement to see his 'brother' Aithusa had forgotten his own sharp claws and sliced Arthur's brow cleanly by his temple. It was a superficial wound, but, being a head wound, was bleeding profusely anyway. "Keep your head tilted," Merlin instructed, forcibly tilting Arthur's head at an angle to keep the blood from flowing down his neck. He left to fetch some towels.

Arthur obediently kept his head at a tilt but continued to glare at the small dragon that was now cowering by his bed. He squinted at it, unsure of whom he was more annoyed at; Merlin, or this… _dragon _thing that had somehow found its way into Merlin's laundry. He still hadn't made up his mind when Merlin came back and began cleaning his forehead. After clearing away the blood, Merlin placed his palm over the wound. He glanced down at the King.

"Arthur?"

"What?" he replied, irritated.

"Just… Please don't freak out." Merlin said. Before Arthur could ask what he was talking about, Merlin turned his eyes to the injury. "_Beclýse, ágíeme__ blæce."_ He could feel Arthur stiffen when he realized what Merlin was doing, and could tell that Arthur was watching him as his eyes flashed gold. After a moment, Arthur swatted his hand away and rose from the chair he'd been sitting in.

"What the hell'd you do to me?" He pulled the hair away from his face and stuck his nose in a looking glass.

"Healed the wound over. It shouldn't be more than scratch now - if I got it right."

Arthur looked at his own reflection, part amazed, part enchanted, part horrified. "You did," he said absently, rubbing at the spot that was, mere moments before, bleeding. Now, it was no more than a thin white line of mending skin.

"Sorry about Aithusa. He's… excitable."

"Aithusa?" Arthur turned around, a confused expression on his face. Merlin stood, slightly flustered, with his hands behind his back.

"The dragon, Sire."

Right. The _dragon_. "Oh." Arthur leaned slightly to look around his bed at the baby dragon where it sat on the floor, currently entranced with its own tail. "And, eh… Where did you get the… _dragon_, Merlin?"

Merlin sniffed. "From a dragon egg."

Arthur fought the urge to roll his eyes. _Still an idiot._ "Yes, I might've figured that bit, _Mer_lin – where'd you get the _egg_?"

"Well… Do you remember when we went to the tomb of Ashkanar?"

Arthur paused to remember, then looked at Merlin. "Yes…"

"And how it was said that Ashkanar kept a dragon egg hidden in his tomb?"

Arthur thought he knew where this was headed. He wasn't sure if he liked it. "Yes. Merlin…"

"Well," Merlin forced a smile, glancing at Aithusa where the dragon was slobbering on Arthur's bedspread. "There was." He smiled some more, but stopped to reprimand Aithusa and pick him up beneath the forelegs. The dragonling was still chewing on a golden tassel when he settled down into Merlin's arms, but both Warlock and King decided it was better not to notice.

"I see." Arthur said at length. "But…" He looked confused in his annoyance. "That thing was buried there for centuries – how come it didn't hatch until you came along?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm a dragonlord." He said, somewhat sheepishly. "It takes a dragonlord to summon a dragon from its egg."

"Fahder!" Aithusa mispronounced around his new chew toy. Merlin flashed a grin at him before looking back up at Arthur uncertainly.

Arthur nodded and slowly began to walk toward Merlin. After inspecting Aithusa for a few seconds, he went around to lean against his bed. "Merlin, about this whole _dragonlord_ thing…"

"Oh, right." Merlin cleared his throat uncertainly. "Well, uhm, you remember, with the Great Dragon," he began, preparing for a long explanation.

"Balinor was your father." Arthur said. Merlin looked up at him, surprised. Even Aithusa looked taken off guard.

"You knew?" He asked incredulously. Arthur shook his head.

"I overheard you talking to the knights a few days ago." Arthur explained. "I'd come down to apologize for missing morning training, and got more than I bargained for." Merlin nodded, not sure whether he should be offended or not. He decided he wouldn't have done differently in Arthur's situation and let it go. There was a pause in the conversation before Arthur added gently, "That couldn't have been easy for you."

Merlin chewed his lip and shook his head slightly.

"I'm sorry. I was a right prat about it, at the time." They were, of course, referring to Balinor's death.

"You didn't know," Merlin insisted in the King's defense.

"I'm still sorry about it – just take an apology, would you?" Arthur huffed, feeling vulnerable. He glanced at Aithusa, who was watching Arthur with interest. When the dragon caught the king looking at him, he smiled. Arthur looked back up to the dragonlord. All previous anger or irritation was gone from his face, replaced by a deep curiosity and something of tentative friendship. "Merlin," he crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly before asking, "Everything the knights said that day, about what you've done… Is it true?"

Merlin recalled what had been said, then nodded hesitantly.

"And… And more than that, I suppose?"

Merlin's eyebrows raised slightly and he smiled with a look that said _you don't know the half of it_. Frankly, Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"I thought as much." Arthur said quietly, suddenly feeling as though he were falling back into the grander scheme of things, suddenly a much smaller player in a story that was larger than he'd ever imagined. "It's funny," He told Merlin at length, "Years ago, I told my father that I thought I must have a guardian angel watching over me, with all I've lived through. He thought so too." He raised his eyebrows. "Never thought it'd turn out to be a sorcerer. Never thought it'd turn out to have been _you¸_ all this time." He looked up at Merlin, not sure whether he should apologize or thank him or just smile. He opted to look at the ground. "I have so many questions," He said quietly, after a long while, "but I suppose those can wait." He glanced at Aithusa and his demeanor changed. "In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if your friend there would stop eating my upholstery."

Merlin glanced down at the dragon and plucked a slobbery bit of bedding from his mouth. "Sorry, Arthur…" He mumbled. At the name, Aithusa forgot his toy and exclaimed,

"Brother!"

Arthur frowned at him. "Why does he keep calling me that?"

Merlin shrugged. "Beats me. He's given everyone nicknames – including Gaius. Aithusa, why is Arthur your brother?" He asked the dragon. Aithusa twisted his long neck around to look up at Merlin.

"Father takes care of Aithusa because Father is Father. Father takes care of Brother, too – must be Father to Brother as well. Makes Brother Aithusa's Brother." Aithusa turned a toothy grin on Arthur. "Brother!"

Although Merlin rushed to critique Aithusa's reasoning, Arthur simply sighed and gave a rather begrudging grimace. "As much as it pains me to admit it," He said, stepping toward Aithusa, "The dragon's logic is sound. You _do_ take care of me, in your own way. You always have, too, if what I've heard over this past week is true." Part of Arthur wanted to say _'thank you' _right then and there, but some part of him, the same part that still hurt from Merlin's years of deceit, kept him from doing so. He batted the hard feelings down in determination to make amends, but he still couldn't get those last words out of his mouth. He contorted his mouth this way and that, but eventually, he settled on a strong nod instead and gave Merlin a pat on the shoulder. "Well, if you – sorry, you _two_ – will excuse me, I _was_ working when you, er… dropped in. So if you don't mind…" He ducked around Merlin to his desk and whipped up a sheet of paper. "Do try and keep your dragon cub out of trouble." Were baby dragons called 'cubs'? Arthur didn't know. He didn't care.

"Of course, Sire." Merlin turned to leave, but before he could go, Arthur called back,

"Merlin,"

The warlock turned. "Sire?"

"Thank you…" but before he could make it such a humbling proclamation as that, added quickly, "…for healing that scratch. And all. With… magic." Arthur coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. But of course, Merlin had known him long enough to know what he really wanted to say. "That'll be all, Merlin. Oh, and make sure you hide that… Aithusa on your way out."

Merlin tried to repress his smile, but it didn't quite work. "Yes, Sire." He picked up his laundry and covered Aithusa. He was still smiling when they left the castle.


	9. I'll Try

**A/N: I've been asked if I plan any major villains/obstacles for this story... The answer, frankly, is no. I mean, aside from the emotional turmoil of the whole thing, I don't think it really needs it, and (because I don't think I mentioned this before) I only plan on making this story 13, maybe 14 chapters or so long. However, I am planning at least one if not two (I've got to major plot ideas running through my head) sequels to this story. They'd be set a year or two AFTER this story takes place. I'll give you more details later on, or if anyone asks for them.**

**And because I've failed to say it the past few chapters, all of you reviewers are amazing. You truly are. You've made writing this that much more fun - and I'm glad to hear that everyone is liking little dragon Aithusa!**

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><p>Although it was a relief to know that Arthur wasn't <em>too <em>much to worry about in the secretly-raising-a-baby-dragon department, Merlin's nerves continued to fray because of Aithusa, and after a few weeks, he finally snapped. He was too kind hearted to take it out on Aithusa himself, and simply too tired to take it out on Gaius or Arthur, but the stress shone through anyway, and Gaius was the first to know about it.

"Merlin," He said uneasily one morning, when he'd found Merlin asleep on the floor, "Are you alright?" One of the warlock's hands was still holding a dead rat he'd planned on feeding to Aithusa, and the other arm was full of breakables he'd hidden from the dragon. Slowly, he stirred, breathing drowsily against his neckerchief that had folded up over his face.

"…'thusa…"

"Yes, I figured as much. Merlin, I know you care for him, but… Isn't this all going a bit far?" Gaius plucked the rat up by its tail and set it aside.

Merlin disregarded the glass bottles that spun away from his arm as he propped himself up. "Mmf… dragonlord…duty…" He mumbled.

"Dragonlord or not, Merlin, you're still human – you need rest. And lots of it." Suddenly, there was a crash, and Gaius turned to look to where Aithusa had already knocked something over. "Preferably not around him. Now come on, up you get." The physician had to practically drag the boy up from his spot on the ground.

"No, havta…stop…" Merlin took a step forward toward Aithusa and began to tilt sideways. Gaius caught him before he fell, and deftly spun the boy's shoulders around so he was facing the way to his own room.

"I'll have none of that – now go. I'll handle the beast for a few hours, you get some shut eye." Gaius gave Merlin a shove in the back. Although he began to protest, Merlin figured it would take too much effort, so he uncoordinatedly shuffled back to his room and collapsed on his bed.

Once he was sure Merlin had made it to his bed without falling over first, Gaius put his hands to his hips and eyed Aithusa.

"Right, you. We'll see if we can't make you into something _besides_ a walking disaster."

When Merlin woke up, He was slightly surprised to find the sun at high noon already. He threw off the covers and charged into the main chambers. The room was a mess, but then… It was _quiet_. He glanced around, searching for some sign of Aithusa. He didn't spot the dragon, but he did spot someone else.

"Gaius, what's happened?"

Gaius looked up at the man calmly, thumbing through an old volume. "Nothing much, since you've gone to bed. Come help me put these away, would you?" He closed the book and put it on the shelf in front of him. Merlin did as he was told, but looked about in a confused way.

"But… Where's Aithusa?"

"Just there," Gaius pointed. By the window, on a small cushion, Aithusa snored soundly with his tail tucked around him. He was so still, Merlin thought he might've been unconscious. "But… How did you-"

"Just a light sedative, is all. I needed some peace and quiet to clean up his mess."

Merlin rounded on his mentor with a shocked, almost hurt look. Gaius shrugged defensively.

"I'm not the court physician for nothing. Now stop looking at me like that. I have some errands for you to run." He handed Merlin a square of parchment with a shopping list written on it. "Those are all the things Aithusa's tried to eat from my herb pantry. No thanks to him, I need some more of it all. I'd send him to get them as punishment, but seeing as he's a dragon…"

"It falls to me, then."

"Correct."

Merlin sighed. "I'll see what I can do." He picked up his bag and headed for the door.

"Merlin?" Gaius called before the warlock could quiet leave,

"Hmm?"

"Do try and relax a bit."

Merlin tried to smile. "I'll try."

* * *

><p>It was by no means unusual for the physician's assistant to buy herbs from the local dealers, but with the amount of ingredients that Merlin was lugging around the castle yards that day, he did receive some queer looks. He'd purchased everything but two things on his list when he bumped into Gwen.<p>

"Preparing an herbal soup are you, Merlin?" She chuckled at the amount of greenery in his arms and sticking out of his bag. He whirled around in a blur of picked foliage.

"Gwen," He smiled wide, relief in his features. She, however, frowned.

"Merlin, your eyes! Have you been sleeping? They look awful…" She reached up and touched a finger to his pale cheek, which was quickly turning pink.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, just a bit… Eh, long night, is all." He flashed a grin at her and turned away to give the last of his coins to the merchant waiting patiently at his stall. He fumbled with his cargo, and Gwen rushed to take it from his arms.

"Let me," she said, placing the herbs in her basket. Merlin bought the last of his items and put them in his bag. Gwen flashed the seller a smile as the two turned away.

"Gwen, you shouldn't," Merlin told her quietly as they turned away, "How's a future queen of Camelot supposed to look like royalty buying herbs in the market with a sorcerer?"

She blushed at the mention of her future title. The engagement between her and Arthur had been long standing and unusual, but at last they had settled on a wedding date and made their courtship official once more. She twisted her ring fondly. "I enjoy it," She explained, "being amongst the people. Besides, I won't be a proper queen for a while yet. Now come on, I'll walk back with you to Gaius'."

Despite being exhausted, Merlin felt at ease with Gwen by his side. She was one of his oldest friends in Camelot, and was the only one so far who hadn't begun treating him differently because of his magic. Merlin had never had a sister, but if he did, he was sure he'd want her to be Gwen.

"How are… things?" She asked after a long companionable silence. Merlin frowned at her.

"Things?"

"With you and Arthur, I mean. About magic."

"Ah," Merlin tilted his head up in acknowledgement. "Well… Well, I suppose. I can't say." Merlin frowned. "He seems… Well, I don't really know." Melrin blinked when he realized that he didn't know _how _to classify Arthur's reaction. "He hasn't _rejected_ my magic, but then, he hasn't _accepted_ it, either. Whenever I use it around him, he seems fine with it, if not a bit unnerved… But then, he's never spoken about it to me or anyone except in private. He hasn't even whispered about any sort of formal pronouncement on me. It's as if he doesn't want people to know about it."

Gwen nodded as though she'd guessed the same thing. "He's confused. He's torn between what he knows is best and what he's been told is best. Give him time – he'll make the right decision."

Merlin was going to ask her what exactly 'the right disicion' was, but they'd reached their destination. He smiled at her. "Thank you, Gwen," he took the herbs she'd been carrying from her and piled them in his arms.

"Just give him some time," She told him, looking at him encouragingly. He nodded.

"I'll try."

* * *

><p>Ironically, it was only a few hours later when Arthur appeared at Gaius' doorstep. He was clad in his mail and bits of armor, but he carried his breastplate in his hands.<p>

"Merlin!"

Merlin whirled around from where he'd been grinding ingredients for Gaius. Aithusa was still asleep at the window.

"Arthur?"

"I need your help."

Merlin frowned. "With what?"

Arthur stepped forward and slammed his breastplate down on the workdesk. A long, jagged crack ran down the middle of the armor, pushed inward at the center. "Jousting practice," Arthur explained. "Old thing couldn't take Percival's lance." He looked up at Merlin. "Can you fix it?"

Merlin looked down at it, then at the King, who watched him expectantly. "Do I _look_ like a blacksmith to you?"

Arthur blinked. "No," he said, "with _magic_, idiot." He said as though he was speaking with a child. "You couldn't lift a smith's hammer if you wanted to, with those arms. Honestly, _Mer_lin."

The warlock blinked. Why didn't he just go to a smithy? "You're saying you _want_me to use magic?"

"Yes, the convenience of it all is rather addictive. I don't know how you managed to not use it all this time." Arthur sniffed and shoved the breastplate a little closer to where Merlin stood.

Merlin shrugged and took the broken piece of armor. "So you _aren't_ going to kill me for it, then?" He asked, inspecting the damage.

Arthur began to laugh, but when he looked up and saw that Merlin was being serious, his smile disappeared immediately. Arthur looked hurt for a moment, then realized that just a few months ago, he probably _would_ have killed Merlin for it. He looked incredibly disturbed at himself when he said quietly, "No, no of course not."

In accordance with the suddenly solemn atmosphere, Merlin frowned uncertainly and asked, more quietly, "Then what _will_ you do, Arthur?"

The King looked up at his friend, an utterly lost expression on his face. The frustration with which he worked his jaw told Merlin that he'd considered the problem before. "I have no idea, Merlin," he said in a helpless tone. Merlin, who'd developed a knack for timely wisdom, couldn't find anything to say. Instead, he turned back to the cracked breastplate. "_Gebétung gearwe __sméðe."_ The fissure in the metal snapped back into place and sealed with a _shink. _Merlin polished the repaired segment with the corner of his sleeve. "Good as new," His voice lacked enthusiasm as he handed the piece back to Arthur. Arthur seemed nearly as excited as Merlin did.

"Indeed." He stared at it blankly for a moment, his mind a million miles away. Eventually, after what could have been an eternity, he looked up, still in somewhat of a trance. "Have you seen Gwen recently?"

"This morning, out in the market, buying herbs. She was headed to the castle last time I saw her."

Arthur nodded. "I've been meaning to speak with her, about…" He gestured vaguely, turning toward the door. "Thank you, Merlin," He muttered, then left.

Merlin sighed. He'd thought that maybe, just maybe, once Arthur knew about his magic, everything would just fall into place. It was a slim chance, but he'd hoped on it. And even then, even if things _hadn't_ just fallen into place like a dream, Merlin would have never expected things to be so damn _awkward._ Or slow. Sometimes it felt as though he was on a journey that kept getting longer and longer, and one by one, his traveling companions were running out of good things to say. He'd waited for this transition in his life with bated breath for years, and now that it was finally here, he was lost.

So Arthur knew about his magic. Great! So all of Camelot knew – including his best friends – even better! And wonder of wonders, Arthur _wasn't_ going to kill him, and actually took the whole thing quiet well, personally. But then… What _would _Arthur do? He didn't know. Merlin didn't know. No one in all of Camelot or the world, for that matter, knew. Merlin was left floating in the midst of a half-finished destiny, without any promise or indication that he'd ever stop floating. That scared Merlin. His story had suddenly stopped in the middle of the end, at a rather unsatisfactory point in time. But what could he do about it?

Merlin glanced at Aithusa, somehow hoping for an answer, but the small dragon simply snored on. Merlin sighed. After heaving himself up from the desk, he drug himself to his room, hoping that things would eventually fall into place on their own. Lord only knew that he wouldn't know what to do about it all.


	10. You're Fired

**A/N: First of all, I just realized that I've been spelling Elyan's name with an 'o' instead of an 'a' throughout this story. Oops. I'll see if I can't rectify that.**

Also, while I really, really

_**really**_** wanted to use Homeric Greek phonetically translated into Arabic characters for the dragon tongue, I could not find **_**any**_** resources online that would let me do so without paying money, and, seeing as I'm a broke college kid and this is only fanfiction, I am instead settling for merely **_**implied**_** use of Homeric Greek, a.k.a. the Dragon Tongue from **_**Merlin**_**. *SIGH* If anyone knows a good way to construct phonetically spelled phrases in Ancient Greek, let me know. I'd be grateful.**

**For now, however, please note that **"_/speech here__**/**__"_**is my half-hearted attempt to signify dragon speech. I really wish I could've done the real thing. Ah well.**

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><p>Enjoy the new chapter! I'm trying desperately to get the major components of my Reveal!Headcanon down on paper (or , as it were) before the finale tomorrow night, because I have a strong inkling the magic won't be secret anymore by this time tomorrow.<p>

As the days wore on, Merlin never did find an answer to his confusion. Frustration began to set in, but it seemed that the world was determined not to notice. Merlin had only seen Arthur and Gwen once or twice after that day, and they were always together. Whenever he approached to say hello, they would either clam up or change topics entirely, ensuring he couldn't stick around long. He tried not to take it personally – they were, after all, engaged, and as such merited some privacy. Gwaine, Leon and Elyan all seemed too busy to spend much time around Merlin, much less notice his depression, and innocent little Aithusa seemed far to distractible to even know what 'depression' was supposed to mean. Even Gaius, who seemed to know Merlin's moods better than Merlin did himself, seemed completely ignorant of the warlock's inner turmoil. The world seemed to be racing about Merlin whilst he tried to ask it to please, for just a moment, stand still. It was nearly as maddening as the depression itself.

Merlin had already hit several breaking points in the past months, but he'd always gotten right back up again and plowed on despite the pain. But now, as depression piled on frustration piled on confusion piled on exhaustion piled on stress, Merlin knew he was headed for the inevitable moment where he would physically, mentally, and emotionally break, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was simply a matter of time. However, despite whatever horrific images of this ultimate crash his subconscious might've conjured up for him, nothing could have prepared him for the real thing.

He'd just wanted Aithusa to get some fresh air. The dragon was insufferable to be around after four consecutive days in Gaius' chambers, bouncing around as he did, so Merlin smuggled him out in basket of linens (he was getting progressively heavier each time Merlin tried to pick him up, the warlock noticed) and brought him deeper into the castle. Eventually, they reached the dark chasm where Kilgarrah used to reside, and Merlin left Aithusa to his own devices. Now that the dragon was flying on his own, Merlin didn't worry about him falling or hurting himself. The old prison was airy and massive, giving the small dragon plenty of room to fly around in and wear out his excess of energy.

"Mind yourself, 'Thusa. I'll be back in a few hours." While the ivory beast playfully spun in the air, Merlin turned and went to start his list of chores for the day. It wasn't a particularly long list that day, but he kept getting stopped by the strangest of things – the kitchen chef asking a favor here, stopping to help a maid pick up dropped towels there, people, who hadn't spoken to him since before the battle striking up conversation. In all, what should have taken him three quarters of an hour cost him two and a half hours. When he finally reached Arthur's chambers to finish off his duties, he shut the door behind him, closed his eyes, and let out a relieved sigh, reveling in the silence. He reopened his eyes.

And that's when he stared panicking again.

Standing in the middle of the bed with the feathery remains of two and half pillows lying at his claws was Aithusa. He licked his lips, which sent a slobbery feather fluttering down to its fellows piled high on the comforter. Merlin's jaw dropped. The rug was torn. The bed was decimated. The curtains were hanging off kilter. There were clothes and plates and papers everywhere. And out of the open window, Merlin could hear the sound of a woman who was still trying to explain to a guard how she'd seen a small dragon fly up into the castle.

_Arthur really is going to kill me for this_.

For a split second, Merlin and Aithusa made eye contact, and in that moment, Merlin knew he'd hit his last straw. Unable to control himself, he was suddenly enraged, and poor Aithusa was on the receiving end of it all.

"_/DRAGON! Leave now!/" _Aithusa ducked back in fright. Merlin had never before commanded him in the Dragon Tongue, and now he was doing so with an angry bite behind the roaring words. "/_Go away from this place! Do not come back unless I summon you!/" _And before Merlin could snap out of his rage and apologize, Aithusa was irresistibly drawn to the window, where his still-growing wings carried him fast and far and out of sight.

Merlin was shaking, looking about himself. He grabbed at his hair until it hurt, then began throwing spells around in a fury that he knew Gaius would have scolded him for.

"_Rihtee __gescirpla, mýderce_!" He'd meant to send the scattered clothes into the wardrobe, but they smacked against the cupboard door and fell back down. Merlin grit his teeth. "_Alíese!"_ His eyes flashed at the fallen chair, but it got knocked back against the wall instead of being set upright. Merlin breathed hard, verging on an outburst once more. Finally, "_Edniwe hrǽgl! Dæfte þæt bedd! Onbregdan!" _Nothing did as it was told. Pewter cups slammed against the walls, and the pile of feathers decided that they would do much better on the floor than back in their pillows. The windows all slung open and the curtains fell down.

Merlin grabbed at his hair once more, the stress and exhaustion of weeks finally reaching a boiling point in his gut. His ears began ringing. He wanted to scream, and so he did. And, as often happened when Merlin became angry, his control slipped and his magic ran free for a terrifying second. He couldn't have known it, overwhelmed as he was, but Merlin's eyes blazed gold in his rage and sent a dozen different objects flying from their places to the walls, where they bumped, clanged, and shattered their way to the floor.

Another thing he couldn't have known was that Arthur had opened the door a split second before it happened.

"_What in the name of Camelot is going on?"_ The King roared, stepping into what was supposed to be his personal chambers. Now it looked like a upturned battleground. As a testament to his tumultuous state, Merlin didn't say or do anything but bury his head in his hands. "Merlin," Arthur's boots crunched on broken glass as he marched over, "What the _hell_ did you do?"

After a few seconds steadying his own breath, Merlin said, "I'm sorry," his voice was muffled by his hands, "It's… Aithusa, he… My fault…" He sighed and looked up. "I- I'm so sorry, Arthur, I'll…clean it up." He sniffed. Arthur noticed that his eyes were dark and red. The warlock turned around and pointed his hand at an overturned bench.

"_Alíese __sess." _Nothing happened. Merlin took a deep breath. "_Alíese __sess," _he repeated. Still, nothing. One more time, with force, "_Alíese __sess!"_ and when his magic continued to fail him, Merlin started to shake with frustration. "_Alíese se-"_

"Merlin," Arthur's hand was suddenly on Merlin's wrist, "_stop_."

Merlin grit his teeth and tore his hand from Arthur's grip. He began pacing, rubbing his face and grabbing his hair.

When he'd stepped in the room, Arthur had been more than ready to grill Merlin on what on earth had happened to make his room look like it'd been subject to a windstorm, but after seeing his friend's reaction to it all, he found that his voice was a bit less eager than before. There was obviously something wrong. He'd never seen Merlin act this way. He sat down on the wooden chest by his bed, one of the few things that had been untouched in this… well, whatever it was. He watched Merlin pace and mumble to himself for a few minutes until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Merlin, would you _please_ tell me what's going on? Because I'd _really _like to know," He said in an aggravated tone. Merlin didn't even pretend to have heard what Arthur had said.

"_Merlin!" _the king snapped. Merlin turned toward him, obviously overwhelmed. He steadied himself, and began to speak. Once he got going, he spoke so quickly Arthur had to race to keep up. He explained it all, the stress, Aithusa, everyone ignoring him… Very quickly, Arthur garnered that Merlin was not only angry, but tired, anxious, confused, and down to his last nerve. And somehow, he blamed _himself_ for all of it. Arthur watched the ranting sorcerer with a slightly concerned eye. He'd noticed a few days ago that Merlin was a bit down in the dumps, but he hadn't realized it'd gotten so bad. The man was far too good at hiding things, Arthur noticed, particularly things that had to do with himself. They grew and grew until they pushed him past the limit, like they'd done that day. Arthur knew that, as Merlin's king and his friend, he would have to intervene in some way. After Merlin ended his tirade, Arthur stood.

"Merlin," he said, calmly as he could, "I am truly sorry. I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this." His hands were folded business-like behind him, and suddenly, Merlin's face had transformed from anger to confusion. "At least, not for a long while. Unfortunately, you've now shown me that I have no choice." He looked with a twinge of regret into Merlin's confused gaze and said, "Merlin, you're fired."

"W-_what?_" Merlin sputtered. As if _this_ hadn't already been enough, now he was losing his _job_ as well? What the hell _couldn't _go wrong for him?

"You heard me," Arthur said plainly. "Look around, Merlin. You are clearly no longer suited for this job."

"Bu-"

"You have allowed a juvenile dragon to destroy my quarters. Further, you have made it worse with your own magic, and in so doing, have failed all the duties that you should be attending to right now."

Merlin's jaw was at the floor. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to yell or simply run away.

"Clearly, you are unfit to work, and I'm telling you now that I no longer require your service." Somehow, the fact that Arthur said it all so calmly, with such composure and ease, made the whole thing ten times worse. Five years of service, disregarded in an instant. Merlin didn't know what to say. The two men simply stared at each other. Arthur looked around at his room.

"I suppose I'll have to find some other half-witted idiot to fix this place," He muttered. He'd phrased it almost like a joke, but it stung Merlin like a slap to the face.

"I'll… I'll just go home then, Sire." He said expressionlessly, turning away to the door.

"You'll do no such thing. Besides, you'll not be living with Gaius anymore, Merlin."

Merlin whirled around. "_What?"_

"I _said_, you'll not be living with Gaius anymore, _Mer_lin."

Merlin was speechless. He'd been fired. He'd been insulted. Now he was being evicted? _Banished, _even? By _Arthur?_ He couldn't believe it.

"Sire, please, I-"

"I won't have it another way, Merlin, now come on." Arthur marched past Merlin and to the door, his face as unsympathetic as ever. Merlin stayed where he was, mind reeling.

"Arthur?" He asked, almost pleaded, looking up in confusion at his friend. He was surprised to see a familiar expression of exasperation on Arthur's face when the king replied,

"Please don't look so dour, _Mer_lin, I said that you're fired – that doesn't mean you can _leave_. Now come _on."_ He ducked away from the door and Merlin could hear his bootheels knock against the stone floors outside, headed down the hallway. "Try to keep up, would you?" His voice floated back.

It might've been habit, it might have been curiosity, but despite his shock and pain and utter confusion, Merlin found himself walking out the door and jogging to catch up. They charged wordlessly down this hallway and that, until they were in a part of the castle that Merlin had never seen before. He hadn't even known it existed.

"Arthur?" He asked, completely bewildered. Arthur didn't reply, but sighed heavily and said,

"I should have fired you _months_ ago." He looked up at a tall wooden door, grabbed the handle, and pushed it open.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Didn't like this chapter as much as I had hoped, but oh well. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Read and review, please!**


	11. Free

**A/N: So there wasn't a reveal in the finale. I'm less than pleased with that. Oh well. Maybe next series.**

**By the way, I'm warning you now, this is the sappiest chapter yet. I blame John Powell, lack of sleep, and the general sentimentality of the Christmas season.**

**Have a very merry Christmas!**

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><p>The first thing Merlin noticed about the room was the books. There were mountains of them, sprinkled with papers and scrolls. Amid them all like a proverbial pioneer was the portly castle archivist, who snapped his head up in surprise at the newcomers' sudden entry.<p>

"Change of plans," Arthur told the man. "Give us a moment, would you, Geoffrey?" The archivist glanced at Merlin and seemed to understand. He bowed curtly to Arthur.

"Of course, your majesty."

"Thank you," Arthur said as he left. After the door clicked shut, Arthur spread his hands and turned to Merlin. "Do you like it?" he asked expectantly. Merlin, who was still trying to figure out what was going on, shrugged noncommittally.

"Well, I… Suppose, it's…" He shook his head, then gave Arthur a sharp look. "Arthur, _why_ are we here? What is this place?" He pleaded, looking around. The room was round and there were stairs curving against wall, so they must've been in a tower, but Merlin couldn't recall having ever been in this particular tower before.

"This," Arthur said with a touch of pride, "is where you'll be living from now on."

Merlin was nonplussed. He wasn't sure he believed anything Arthur was saying. "Arthur," He felt the need to remind him: "You just _fired_ me!"

A look of guilt crossed the King's features. "Yes, I suppose I did…" He scratched his cheek and avoided Merlin's gaze. "You know, that wasn't entirely fair of me, I am sorry. I suppose I had too much fun with it." Merlin still didn't understand. He watched Arthur with a look of complete befuddlement. Arthur saw it, so he quickly explained: "I'm giving you a new job, Merlin." He said.

"A _new_ job?" Merlin's said incredulously. "What kind of _new_ job?" He wasn't sure what Arthur was playing at, but so far it wasn't funny, and Merlin's normally quick mind was racing to catch up. He hadn't the slightest idea what to expect.

"A job that hasn't been filled in Camelot for many years," Arthur told him, suddenly more serious than before.

"And what's that?"

Arthur drew breath as if to answer, but then he smiled and tilted his head. "Well, why don't you just go look at the plaque outside the door?" Both men looked toward the door. "It's been gathering dust for a few decades, but it should still be readable." When Merlin sent a skeptical glance in Arthur's direction, the king shooed him off. "Well, go on!" For some reason, the expression on Arthur's face reminded Merlin of someone watching their best friend open a present they'd specially planned out. So far, he wasn't particularly liking this present. Still skeptical, he went to the door and stepped out. Arthur followed eagerly, a huge smile on his face. Merlin was frowning when he turned to find the plaque, but when he saw it, his face cleared into an unreadable expression of shock.

There, carved cleaninly into prominent stone slab: _Court Sorcerer_

"As I say," Arthur was struggling to keep his smile under control, "No one's held the position for years, but seeing as you make such a dreadful manservant, I thought it might suit you better than the next bootlicker in line." He smiled, proud of himself, but when Merlin didn't reply and didn't move, his smile slowly started to fade. "Merlin?" He asked, concerned.

It took a moment, but eventually Merlin turned to regard Arthur with a stunned expression. "You're… _promoting_ me?" He asked.

"Well," Arthur rolled his eyes, "I don't know if I would go that far. It's not as though I had much of a choice. What, with dragons, magic, and all those other destructive shenanigans you seemed to have gained a penchant for, you've forced my hand. I've told you before, Merlin; you're absolute rubbish as a servant."

"But you… You want me to be…" His eyes cast over to the sign, then back to Arthur. "…_Court Sorcerer?_"

Arthur seemed to soften somewhat, and said sincerely, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Merlin didn't know what to say. He blinked rapidly, trying to take it all in. He glanced about himself, mind racing over all the implications of this 'present'.

"Mind you," Arthur said, "I hadn't planned on doing all this until _after_ the wedding. Gwen desperately wanted to be part of the announcement, but with recent… developments, I thought it might be better for you if we just went on with it." He sighed to himself. "You truly have thrown it all off schedule, you know – the ceremony, the announcement, the feast…" Arthur paused and, watching Merlin with a smile, said slowly, "And now, thanks to you and your impatient dragon friend, I'll have to repeal the ban on magic without a queen by my side."

In all the years he'd known him, Arthur had never seen Merlin look up quite so quickly. He had to smile.

For a moment, Merlin could only stare. Then, "Repeal the ban?" he said quietly, almost unbelieving. "Legalize magic?"

"Merlin, I'm appointing you as _Court Sorcerer_. If that doesn't betray my sentiments on magic, I don't know what will." Arthur drew himself up with a more serious tone. "My father was gravely mistaken in his ruling against magic – and I'm afraid I haven't been much better." He looked up at Merlin, "I think it's about time I made things right," he said quietly. He and Merlin's eyes met, and for the first time in nearly six years of friendship, they were not merely _looking_ eye to eye - they _saw_ eye to eye. The Sorcerer looked at his King, and the King looked back, and each man in his own mind knew suddenly, inexplicably, that no matter what came next, he would now and forevermore consider the other as his equal; and beyond that, his _friend_.

Eventually, Arthur broke the look and said, "We'll have to do it slowly, of course. We'll start by repealing the penalties attached to magic, try to get an idea of just how many magicians are in Camelot, and then slowly work to help the-" Whatever Arthur was going to say was cut off as two surprisingly strong arms grabbed him in a hug. He found his face half-smashed against a bony shoulder.

In years past, he might've had Merlin in the stocks for it. It was too audacious to endure, too humiliating and uncomfortable to have a servant _hug _him. Undoubtedly, _Prince_ Arthur would have shoved him away and snapped at him for his idiocy, and even the newly-crowned _King_ Arthur would have dismissed the gesture with heavy sarcasm. But Arthur had learned a lot since his coronation; about himself, about the world, and about Merlin. So despite the small voice in his head that just screamed at him to punch the skinny, big-eared clotpole in the face, Arthur merely smiled and, with incoordination that belied the lack of practice he'd had in this particular situation, hugged Merlin back. However, despite the deep feeling behind the gesture, it still felt awkward. He pulled away after a few seconds, and was only partially to see Merlin's face split by the biggest, happiest smile he could possibly manage.

"Arthur, I," Merlin laughed, trying to get a handle on his words and he practically bounced with glee, "I mean-" He looked up at the king. "Thank you." He breathed.

"Don't," Arthur said, shaking his head. "You of all people shouldn't have to thank anyone, Merlin." His smile was tinged with regret. "Now come on – let's see if we can't get you oriented in your new rooms so you _don't_ trip over the floorboards."

* * *

><p>Contrary to what Arthur had said previously, Merlin would be spending a few more weeks living with Gaius, until his new rooms were cleaned and furnished. When he'd returned to Gaius' chambers that evening, he was practically shaking with excitement, and the news of his firing and promotion spilled out within just a few minutes. Merlin was slightly surprised to find out that Gaius already knew of Arthur's plans. When Merlin asked him why he hadn't ever told him, Gaius looked at his ward apologetically.<p>

"Arthur and Gwen swore me to secrecy. They only told me about it all so I'd be ready to have you move out when the time came. I'm truly sorry, Merlin." He said, but Merlin dismissed the apology. He wasn't really hurt – if anything, it explained Gaius' slightly aloof, strange behavior that'd kept him from noticing Merlin's ill moods.

"It's alright," He said, and broke into a smile once more. "I just can't believe it's all actually happening!"

The two shared many a smile that evening, and stayed up late into the night reflecting over all that happened over the past six years, all the hurt and danger and risk and pretending, everything that had finally, at long, long last, lead them to where they were now. At the end of the night, the father shared a look with the son he'd never had, and both of them broke into smiles once more. _Well done_, their eyes said, _well done indeed._

"These walls will miss you, Merlin," Gaius told the boy, for that's how he would always see Merlin in some respect. Merlin smiled bittersweetly.

"I'll miss them, too. And you, Gaius." He looked up at his old mentor. Gaius gave Merlin a kind look, but shook his head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Merlin. I'll always be right here when you need me." He said reassuringly, then amended with a touch of humor, "Well, maybe not _right_ here. I've half a mind to take over your room. It'd be nice to have some privacy after years with you under my roof." Merlin wanted to feign hurt, but he was smiling too widely for either of them to believe it. At length, Gaius rose and told Merlin they should both be in bed. As though he suddenly remembered something, Merlin shook his head.

"Not yet. There's something I need to do first."

* * *

><p>It'd taken a nearly an hour of waiting up on the highest turrets of the castle, but eventually, Merlin spotted Aithusa's pale wings fluttering against the moonlight.<p>

The dragon ducked his head demurely as he approached his lord, but Merlin reached his hand out gently. "Oh, Aithusa, I'm so sorry." He spoke quietly, "I was angry, but I shouldn't have done that to you." He didn't know what it felt like for a dragon to be ordered in their own tongue, but with the knowledge that his will was irresistible to them, he vowed to himself to never abuse his power like that again. "Forgive me?" He asked the little dragon. Immediately, as if he'd been waiting for his cue, Aithusa sprung forward with a trill and wound around in Merlin's lap, rubbing against him. He darted his head up and brushed against the warlock's cheek.

"Aithusa forgives father." He said, then more seriously and more quietly than Merlin ever heard him speak, "Aithusa loves father."

Merlin smiled. "I love you too, Aithusa." The dragon seemed utterly fulfilled by his words, and went up to rub against Merlin again. After a few more minutes in relative quiet, Aithusa seemed to sense something different about his dragonlord.

"Father is happy." He said, looking at Merlin.

Merlin smiled, thinking about it. "Yes," He said, his voice inexplicably thick as the day's events washed over him. His eyes shone with unshed tears; joy, peace, memory, and complete relief suddenly compelling him to weep. "Yes, I am very happy." He said, smiling ever wider.

"But why is father crying, if he is happy?" Aithusa tilted his head. Merlin suddenly let out a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob, but was in fact both.

"Because, we've finally done it, Aithusa – we're free," he told his friend through tears, laughter, and the biggest smile he could manage with both, "I'm _free_." It was the first time in his life that he understood what that word meant.

The next morning, the guards from the parapets below were still trying to guess why they'd heard such joyous laughter falling from the sky that night. They never did figure it out.


	12. Preparations

**A/N:****Woah! By far some of the best feedback I've gotten so far! You guys are truly the best. I hope you're enjoying it! Have a happy New Year, all! (Aussies and New Zealanders first, I suppose. My fellow Texans and I have to wait a bit longer than y'all do. ;) Make it a good one!)**

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><p>Emily sighed in satisfaction as she finally stood to her feet after hours of kneeling in the soil. Three basketfuls of carrots, potatoes and onions saluted her from the ground as if to congratulate her efforts, and a rumble from her stomach hinted at a nice pork and vegetable stew for supper. She dusted off her hands from the fresh dirt and glanced around. Such a feast was not something to keep to herself – she'd invite some of the others over for dinner. Besides, she needed help hauling in all the fresh produce – it had been a very good harvest in her small backyard garden. Seeing no one around within earshot, she walked a ways to a small house on the edge of the village. Smoke curled out of the chimney.<p>

"Hunith?" She knocked on the wooden front door, which was cracked open. "Hunith, would you like to- Hunith?" Emily's tone changed when she stepped inside. She took in the extinguished candles and dying fire with slight concern, but it was Hunith herself that got her truly worried. Across the room the older woman was stuffing a change of clothes, a bundle of food, and what looked like a dagger inside a pack. When Hunith looked up to see Emily, her face was run with tears. "Whatever has happened?" Emily asked, pushing her plump self into the room and going toward Hunith with comforting arms.

Hunith's chin wavered precariously, but she snapped her teeth together and mustered a strong expression. "It's nothing," she said, though her voice wavered. Emily had always marveled at Hunith's strength. Obviously, it _was_ something, but she didn't want anyone to worry about her or anything. Hunith never wanted anyone to worry, even if she worried enough for all of them combined. "I have to go to Camelot." She said suddenly, avoiding eye contact. "To Merl-" She stopped and swallowed a sob. "to my son. It's important."

Not sure what else to do, Emily nodded, but before Hunith could quite make it out the door, added: "Would you like dinner before you go?"

"No, I'm sorry," was all the woman said before she grabbed her cloak and a walking stick and was out the door. As she left, a fluttering piece of parchment caught Emily's eye, and she picked it up. A broken circle of red wax dangled off the corner, the royal crest roaring up at her in the form of a dragon. Curious, Emily unfolded it.

_Hunith of Ealdor,_

_Your presence is requested in the court of Arthur, King of Camelot, on the twenty-second of September, no later than five hours after noon. At the aforementioned time and date, Merlin of Ealdor, also known as Emrys the Sorcerer, will be tried for his use of magic, sorcery, and enchantments within the borders of Camelot._

_Pronouncement and sentencing will follow immediately._

_Signed,_

_Geoffrey of Monmouth, secretary to King Arthur of Camelot_

Emily blinked in shock. Merlin? A sorcerer? Of course, rumors had floated into Ealdor about the recent battle, but no one had really believed them. Hunith had stayed unusually quiet about the whole thing – maybe this was why. Looking back down at the letter, something else caught Emily's eye. A smaller piece of paper, stuck at the bottom of the first with a messy blob of wax. The seal hadn't been broken, so she supposed Hunith hadn't seen it. She broke it off and turned it over. In a scrawl far more messy and informal than the proceeding letter,

_Hunith: Don't let Geoffrey's pomp and prattle alarm you. No harm will befall your son. I've got something in mind that I think you and he will appreciate in kind. Your arrival will be surprise gift to him from me._

Best regards,

_Arthur_

Well, _that _changed everything, Emily thought. Though she still didn't understand everything, especially how Merlin and sorcery were connected, this little hidden note changed the tone of the entire letter – and Hunith hadn't seen it.

"Hunith, wait!" Emily exclaimed, waving the letter in hand as she stepped out the door, but Hunith was nowhere to be seen. She sighed, and hoped that the woman wouldn't worry herself to bits before she reached Camelot's gates.

* * *

><p>"Where did all this stuff <em>come<em> from?" Merlin asked, looking over the list of titles that Geoffrey had kindly provided him as he compiled Merlin's new library.

"Well, _Mer_lin," Arthur's sarcasm was muffled by the edge of the couch that he was trying to shove across the room, "I didn't think I'd have to explain the process of _writing _to you, but-"

"I didn't mean like _that_," Merlin said, turning. He gestured to the list. "I mean, didn't your father have all the magical texts burned when he passed the ban on sorcery?"

Arthur grunted in agreement and stood to his feet. "He did have a great deal of them burned, yes," he said, leaning against the sofa's arm, "but not all of them. For a king who hated magic so much, my father was mildly obsessed with the stuff." Arthur nodded toward the stack of books that Merlin was slowly alphabetizing on the shelf. "He kept a copy of every magical volume he burned and kept it locked deep within our archives. I think it gave him some feeling of power over magic, as if it were the sorcerers themselves, not their work, that he was locking away." Arthur looked slightly saddened at the thought of his father, but snapped out of it quickly. "At any rate, I'm glad he kept them. They'll be all yours, now."

Merlin turned and examined the collection in awe. It'd been a week since Arthur had let him in on his intentions of promotion, and he was still reeling over the concept of his personal possession of so much _stuff_. He'd never had his own quarters before, let alone his own library, alchemy lab, astronomy lookout, not to mention the fluffiest four-poster bed he'd ever had the privilege to jump on, but now he had them all. They were _his_. His heart was constantly bursting with gratitude, and he didn't know what to do with it, so he'd developed a chronic habit of thanking Arthur. Arthur was beginning to tire of it.

"I… _Thank _you, Arthur." Merlin said, turning over a book in marvel, as if he hadn't expected Arthur to give it to him.

"Well you don't think_ I_ have any use of them, do you?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "I suppose the language must come with the magic, Merlin, because everything in those pages is absolute gibberish to me."

"The Old Tongue," Merlin corrected, thumbing quickly through a chapter on stunning and sleeping spells. He made a mental note to read it later. "Totally different."

Arthur didn't seem to care. "Whatever. Just throw them on the shelf and get on with it, would you? You move in here in two days, and after that I am _not_ helping you, so if you want this place to be livable by then, you'd best stop reading and start working."

Merlin thought about helping Arthur with magic, but then… Getting to see the King break a sweat doing _actual_ work was a refreshing change for him. He smiled as he walked by and headed downstairs.

"How're you doing, Aithusa?" Merlin peeked his head into a secondary room, and Aithusa chirred his approval from a messy conglomerance of pillows, straw, and shredded junk linens. An open window let in a breeze. Merlin had found the spare room filled with clutter, and, not knowing what to do with it, had opted to turn it into a room for Aithusa to stay in while he stayed in Merlin's care. "Good," He said, taking in the carnage and thanking the stars above that it wasn't _his_ room. "Mind yourself, alright?" Aithusa nodded and Merlin shut the door.

The first floor was mostly filled with alchemy equipment, which Merlin had no idea how to use, along with a section of traditional healer's equipment, which Merlin _did_ know how to use, along with a good supply of –what else- books. It was all in a complete mess, but after Merlin said a few words in the old tongue, the beakers and bowls and phials set about arranging themselves into their proper places. A duster picked up next and began cleaning all of the newly organized work stuffs. Merlin lounged on a chair and picked up an entertaining epic he'd found, taking a sick kind of enjoyment out of the pained grunts and curses that Arthur was throwing about upstairs. After the King finished whatever it was that he'd been doing, he started to march down the stairs.

"You know, for a former servant, you really are quite useless when it comes to wor-" He stopped when he entered the room. "-king." He finished in a defeated tone. After he recovered from shock at seeing dangerous chemicals, tools, and a fluffy feather duster whizzing about the room at high speeds, Arthur fixed his jaw and glared at Merlin.

"You're a right idiot, you know that?"

Merlin hardly glanced up from his book. "Really? How do you figure that this time?"

"You can do all this in minutes with magic, and yet you have me slaving about upstairs for hours with a _sofa_, of all things."

Merlin gave a small smile. "Consider it a well-deserved workout, Sire."

"A well deserved…_ Merlin!_ Arthur stomped forward and swatted Merlin's book away. The book fell to the floor and the warlock finally looked up at him. "Are you saying that I'm _fat?_"

Merlin looked hurt. "Arthur, when have I _ever_ said that you were fat?"

Arthur began to speak, but found that he couldn't think of a single instance to use as an example. As he thought, he realized that Merlin had _never_ called him fat, at least not in such plain and simple terms, anyway. He fought with his mouth and glared at the raven-haired moron he'd recently decided to appoint to a position of power. Offhandedly, he began to wonder if he'd acted against better judgment. Merlin raised two amused eyebrows. Arthur was red by the time he spoke.

"Like I said: _idiot_." He stormed off with what dignity he had left. Merlin smiled. When the scraping and cursing resumed upstairs, Merlin peered up around the curved stairway from his comfortable spot on the lounge chair.

"Are you alright up there? I mean, I know you need your exercise and all, but I could always-"

"_Shut up, Merlin."_

Merlin smiled. He may've been the new Court Sorcerer, and Arthur may've been the King that was about to turn Camelot on her ear, but some things, he knew, would never ever change.

* * *

><p>Gaius' work had continued as normal the past few days, save for the fact that he only ever saw Merlin in the mornings and evenings, if even that often. Still, there was lightheartedness in his daily chores, grown in the knowledge that everything he'd been hoping for and working for the past twenty years was finally about to pay off. He was so proud of Merlin and Arthur, words could never describe, so he never tried. Gaius was not the type to gush, and he only hoped that the two men whom he considered as his own sons would realize just how much pride he took in their heroism.<p>

He'd been at the mortar and pestle with a fragrant helping of aloe when Hunith arrived.

"Gaius?" She sounded tired.

"Hunith," He broke into a rare smile and started toward her. He hadn't seen her in person for many years, and was glad that Arthur had thought to invite her. However, when his old eyes focused enough on her to see the panic and worry written on her face, he frowned. "Hunith, whatever is the matter?" He stepped forward to touch her shoulder like a concerned older brother might.

"Is it true?" She asked, "About Merlin? Has he been caught?"

"Well, yes, I suppose you could call it that."

"Can I see him?" Hunith was twisting a handkerchief in her hand. "Where is he?"

Gaius was concerned. "I'm not sure. Arthur's been keeping him holed up in the castle as of late, in preparation for the ceremony tomorrow."

At his words, Hunith's chin suddenly started to waver, then all at once, she was crying. Shocked but not completely knocked out of wits, Gaius embraced her and tried to calm her down. "Hunith, what is it? Didn't you get Arthur's letter?"

Hunith either didn't hear him or didn't care. "All those years, I warned him, I protected him… After all that's happened, I thought he'd finally figured it all out, oh, Gaius, I can't do this again, I can't, not again, not after his father-" She heaved a sob, "Giaus, I can't watch my son die, I _won't_." She dissolved into tears, and Gaius held her tighter, slowly beginning to understand.

"I daresay you won't," Gaius said comfortingly before he pulled her out to arm's length and looked her in the eye. "Hunith, I give you my word, Merlin isn't going to die. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"The- the letter," She sniffed. "It said that… That Merlin would go on trial, tomorrow-"

Gaius nodded and finished for her, "and will be promptly acquitted. No harm is coming to your son, Hunith." He paused to read her shock, then asked kindly, "You did get Arthur's letter, didn't you?"

"Y-yes, it… It said he would be tried and sentenced…" She seemed confused.

"Well then, there's been a gross misunderstanding. Rest assured, Hunith, Merlin is safe."

She sniffed and wiped her face with the handkerchief. "But… But Arthur knows? About… About the magic?"

Gaius grinned and nodded.

"But Merlin is safe?"

Again, the physician nodded.

"But… But that means…" Hunith's eyes suddenly cleared and she looked at Gaius with such surprise, hope, and wonder that he'd never seen on her before. He nodded again, and his grin grew into a huge smile. Hunith found herself smiling with him.

She started crying again for another reason entirely.


	13. End of the Beginning

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long to update. I'm getting ready for the spring semester, and things are a bit crazy.

BE WARNED: There is a lot of mushy gushy friend/family sap ahead. Once again, the John Powell channel on Pandora is entirely to blame.

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><p>It was quiet in his chambers that night. It may have been because he was the only person in all three stories of his new home, but perhaps it was because of what awaited him the next day. Handling himself awkwardly in a room larger than he knew how to own, Merlin shuffled over to his bed and carefully unwrapped the clothes that had been delivered to his quarters earlier that day. A note sat on top of them.<p>

_Gwen picked them out, so you can thank her, not me. _

_-Arthur_

Merlin smiled and set the note aside. He pulled away the tissue paper to reveal a fabricy pool of blue. He sucked in a quick breath and tried to remind himself that these were for _him_. He'd never owned anything so nice. He unfolded it carefully and found a crisp, white shirt, dark brown trousers, a red overtunic, and the most beautiful blue dress robe he'd ever seen. It was more a cloak than a robe, but was so nice Merlin couldn't call it anything else. He smiled when he saw the circular, silver pin that went along with it, a dragon figure carved into its center. He set them aside and pulled out a new belt, new boots, and, wonder of wonders: a clean-cut, bright red, luxuriously soft neckerchief. He beamed.

"Do you like it?"

Merlin spun around to face Arthur, who was leaning against the door. He looked down at the neckerchief he was holding, then smiled back up at Arthur. "They're very nice," He said.

Arthur nodded. "Well, Gwen insisted. I can't have you officially joining court in those rags, now can I?" Arthur motioned to Merlin's admittedly tattered scarf and tunic. He gave Arthur a good-natured eye roll and set the things down. The two men stood in each other's company silently for a few minutes. They were both thinking of the days to come.

"I've found a new servant, by the way. I thought you should know." Arthur said. Merlin looked suddenly defensive. "Before you ask, no, he's not a bootlicker."

Merlin raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "Really."

"He's a tongue sharper than a dagger, and is as stubborn as hell. He reminded me of you, so I hired him."

Merlin only smiled because Arthur couldn't see it.

"Mind you," Arthur added, "I know he'll be absolute rubbish as a manservant." There was a slight pause, then, "not nearly as rubbish as you, of course."

And because of the bittersweet kind of tone in his voice, Merlin turned and the two men shared an understanding sort of look. After a moment, Arthur drew himself up in honest sort of way. "Merlin," he said, coming forward to lean against one of the footposts of Merlin's bed. "Before… Well, before the ceremony tomorrow, I wanted to ask you…" He stopped talking suddenly, and looked up at his old friend with a strange expression.

"Yes?" Merlin asked after a while.

Arthur shook his head dubiously. "Just… _Everything_," He said finally. "I have so many questions about… All of this." He gestured vaguely. There was a long pause, but eventually Arthur looked back over at Merlin. "I've heard it from Gaius and everyone else; now I want to hear it from you. Just… why?" Arthur asked, genuinely curious.

It was broad question, and yet both men knew exactly what Arthur meant. However, at the same time, they both knew that Merlin would never be able to answer. After a thoughtful moment, Merlin shrugged, and chuckled to himself before saying simply: "Destiny."

Arthur smirked. "Read a book, did you?"

Merlin shrugged. "A few of them, actually."

"But you didn't actually read any about destiny."

"I didn't have to."

Arthur's smile slowly died, and he looked away in thought. "When I found out that you have magic, that you've been a sorcerer at court for all these years, I thought that everything I knew about you was a lie." He sighed and looked thoughtfully out the window. "But I was wrong. It's all been the truth, all this time, that I refused to see." He blinked and looked back over at Merlin. "You're Emrys. But you're Merlin. And Merlin, the Merlin I've always known, is Emrys as well. You've never changed a bit, have you?"

Merlin drew breath to answer, but once it was in lungs, he found he didn't have anything to say. He breathed out a smile instead, and though he couldn't have known it, that cheeky, lopsided grin told Arthur more than any words ever could have.

"All the bravery, the loyalty, all the… wisdom," Arthur said carefully, his face worked up in a honest expression, "It really _has _been you, all this time." He regarded Merlin for a moment, then added, "Not quite the bumbling fool you've led me to believe."

"I wouldn't say that," Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Really?"

Merlin shrugged. "No one's perfect."

"Not even Emrys?"

Merlin chuckled. "Especially not him," he sounded serious. Arthur nodded.

"I have _so _many questions. It's a whole other world out there, that I've never seen. A whole other story to Camelot that I want to hear." He frowned momentarily "I only wish that I'd have known it all sooner, been willing to…" He sighed, "Been willing to trust you sooner." He looked up. "Will you tell me, Merlin?"

"I can't possibly tell it all in one night, Sire."

"You can start."

Merlin smiled, and sighed. He looked down at his own feet in thought, and when he looked back up again, his eyes had that wise, ageless look about them that Arthur was still getting to know. "There is so much, Arthur. Things you need to know, things you'll hear whether I want you to or not, and, to be honest, things that you won't ever want to hear." He winced slightly at the last bit. "I'll tell you – I will – but… in time. I can't possibly explain it all now, or ever for that matter, but I can try." He felt vulnerable as he said, "It's… Hard, after all these years." He hoped Arthur wouldn't take it the wrong way. He laughed inexplicably. "It's so backwards. I'm finally free to..." He shrugged vaguely, "but I can't," He choked out. "But I will try, Arthur. I will. Just… Give me time." When the ensuing silence went unresolved, Merlin began to add: "I'm sorry, Arth-"

"Don't you dare," Arthur said. "If time is what you need, Merlin, then you've got all you want." He lowered his voice guiltily and sighed. "Lord only knows I've never given you anything else you deserve." He looked up at his former servant. "Thank you, Mer-"

"Don't you dare," Merlin echoed. Arthur looked up at him in surprise. Merlin looked back.

"…Merlin?"

"Sire?"

"Do you think… Despite all this… Despite who you are, and all these years… all that I've done…" When he looked up, he looked like a hopeful child. "Could we still be friends?" Merlin regarded him kindly. A sense of déjà vu washed over Arthur when Merlin told him quietly,

"Sorcerer or not, Arthur, I always have and always will consider you to be a friend." He paused to let the words sink in. "You should know that by now."

"So you have," Arthur said at length. He looked away for a moment, then asked, "I wish I could say the same, but I fear I've done shoddy job of it." He bit his lip. "You think… You think I can give it another go?"

"Always, Sire."

And when they smiled at each other, both knew it was the birth – that is, _re_birth – of a beautiful friendship.

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><p>At first, the ceremony was pure tension. Only a handful of people knew what exactly was about to happen, and the masses whispered fiercely to each other, speculations spreading like wildfire throughout the hall. Hunith sat by Gaius, clutching his arm and shivering with anticipation. Gaius smiled slightly but said nothing to her, instead patting her hand gently.<p>

When Arthur stepped out onto the dias, a hush fell over the room. He looked out over his people and suddenly knew, with surreal clarity, that the next few moments of his life would be forever branded into his memory.

"As you all know, during the battle against Morgana the witch, it was revealed to us all that my servant, Merlin, is in fact a sorcerer – none other than the sorcerer Emrys himself." The king nodded to were Merlin stood off to one side. As whispering resumed, Hunith nudged Gaius.

"Why is Merlin in such clothes?" She asked him, but he patted her hand dismissively, his face still shining with fatherly pride.

"Hush now, let Arthur speak."

"And, as I'm sure all of you are aware, the laws of Camelot decree that the penalty for the use of any magic or sorcery is death." As Arthur waited for the whispers to die down, he glanced at Merlin. The warlock's expression was unreadable. Eventually he could speak again, and Arthur had to steel himself for the bit that came next. "I have not passed judgment on Merlin until now because over the months of late, I have come to reconsider the matter of magic." He thought there would be more murmuring, but to his surprise, there was only stunned silence. He continued, "The war against Morgana was won by magic. As I have looked into the work of Emrys - of _Merlin_ – further, I have learned that Camelot has been saved more than once by magic, that there are many persons possessing and practicing magic who are loyal to my crown and to Camelot. In short," Arthur said, looking up at his people. His eyes landed on Hunith. "I have learned truths about magic that my father, may he rest in peace, refused to see. And I have come to the conclusion, for all the good that he may have willed for this land, my father was gravely mistaken in his views on magic. A sorcerer may be evil, it is true, but they might also be good," He turned his head to meet Merlin's gaze. "Better than any of us could possibly hope to be, in fact." He turned his eyes back to the crowd. "Their innocence should not be unjustly paid with death, as it has been for the past twenty five years in this kingdom. I cannot continue the injustice my father started, and I cannot watch my servan-" he caught himself, "my _friend _die because of a law that I know to be wrong on all accounts." He paused and took a survey of the room. No one made any noise. He spoke his final pronouncement slowly, feeling with every syllable the weight of destiny on his shoulders. "That is why, from this day forward, I am officially and finally declaring the ban and death penalty associated with the use of magic hereby abolished."

He could have heard a pin drop. Then, slowly, Gwaine stood to his feet and started clapping. The knights followed him. Geoffrey. Gaius. Hunith, though she looked like she could barely stand for joy, the castle staff, then the entire room was applauding. Arthur looked over at Merlin just in time to see the man swipe at his eyes. They still shone with tears when he was done. Arthur held out his hands for silence. Reluctantly, the room quieted.

"Now, as my first action under this new jurisdiction, I wish to reinstate an office not held in Camelot for far too long – that of Court Sorcerer." He let the announcement settle, then turned and extended a hand. "Merlin?"

Merlin looked at the hand, then looked at Arthur, and in his new robes that marked him as an equal to Arthur himself, stepped forward and shook Arthur's hand. The room began applauding again, and before any of them could blink twice, Merlin had used what little muscle he had to pull Arthur into a fierce hug.

Once they separated, they turned to observe the crowd. They were both smiling, but when Merlin's eyes strayed over toward Gaius, his smile was suddenly replaced by an emotion no one but she would understand.

Gwaine might've said something to him he passed, and Leon too, perhaps, but Merlin didn't have the slightest idea what it might've been. He knew he hadn't grown since he'd last seen her, but he inexplicably felt that he was far too tall, that he should still be clinging to her knee like he remembered doing so long ago. He looked at her and saw his mother. She looked at him and saw a man that had once been her little boy. "Oh, Merlin," She touched his cheek and threw her arms about his neck, not caring if he saw the tears on her cheeks. He hand to bend over slightly to hold her. He drew back and without asking permission, whispered,

"_Dihte __feðer," _when his eyes flashed gold, something instinct in her leaped in protest, but he only smiled and held out his conjuration: a hawk feather. To be more precise, a merlin feather. Lovingly, he tucked it behind her ear. She looked past him and saw Arthur smiling, and in that moment, every dream she'd ever dared to dream for her son came true. She pulled him close again.

"Merlin," She said into his ear, "My Merlin. _You've done it_."

Merlin could only smile down at her as she held his face. When she let go, Merlin felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned, and through the excited crowd could see Arthur, still on the dais, now with Gwen by his side. Neither he nor the king smiled or said anything, and for a long moment, they merely looked, one at the other.

Slowly, Arthur bowed at the waist. He looked up at his Court Sorcerer.

Merlin bowed back, and looked up at his King.

Simultaneously, they both broke into smiles.

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><p><strong>AN:** I really didn't have a plan for this chapter up until I started writing it, which is why it took me so long to get around to it. Despite the sap, I hope y'all enjoyed it. Only the Epilogue to go, now.

I need to finish this thing up quick, because the ideas/plot line for its sequel will NOT leave me alone, but I know that if I start writing that, this will never get finished. So, keep an eye out for that, and thanks for reading!


	14. Epilogue

**A/N**: Last chapter. It's been a pleasure to write this alongside all of you wonderful reviewers, who've given me some great feedback. Glad y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it! Seeing as this is the last chapter, I'm going to give you a summary of the sequel to _Trust, A Second Chance._

'Everyone had someone, everyone but him. Amid his family in Camelot, Merlin suffers from loneliness. When a noble family arrives at Camelot, a familiar face gives Merlin hope, but ulterior motives and a plot against Camelot and Merlin himself leaves the warlock fighting for everything he holds dear – even that which he thought he'd lost.'

Yup. That's it! _A Second Chance _takes place approximately one year after _Trust. _Arthur will be more of a secondary character in _Second Chance _ (sorry, Arthur fans – but don't worry, he'll still be there) and Gwen will appear more. Merlin will be the star role (obviously) as Camelot's Court Sorcerer, (Warlock?) and Aithusa will make an appearance as a grown dragon. There will be a villain, a plot against Camelot, and dark magic involved (like any decent Merlin episode) as well as a canon character who hasn't been seen for a while… I'm sure some of you have already guessed who it is, if you're smart. (I'm sure it'll be blaringly obvious within the first chapter)

But I'm rambling about something I haven't posted yet! So, thank you all, here's the Epilogue!

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><p>The feast that followed was a strange experience for Merlin. He was used to standing at these events, scrambling about with a pitcher in hand, but presently, he was seated at the place of honor at Arthur's right hand side with his mother at his own right. Naturally, Gwen had taken her place on Arthur's other side, and the knights lined the tables near to them. Gaius was at the head of one of the tables, within arm's reach of Hunith.<p>

The crowd of onlookers and well-wishers all seemed to want to congratulate Merlin at the same time. The result was an incoherent roar of words Merlin only thought he understood until the next round of gabble hit his ears. The ceaseless talking and celebratory cheers thrown at him continued for some time, until Arthur, much to Merlin's relief, stood and raised his hands for silence. The room quieted down and waited for their king to speak.

"This day will live on in Camelot's history as a day when two worlds finally reconciled with one another, the start of a new time; a time of magic and men, together, at peace." Arthur looked about the room and his eyes landed on Merlin for a moment before he continued, "My father said that his crusade against magic was a war. But it wasn't – it was persecution, a persecution that has now come to an end. My only wish is that I had heeded better judgment and ended it sooner.

"But now is not a time for remorse or regret; it is time for celebration. I want everyone here, everyone in Camelot and beyond to know that from this day forward, all people of magic need not live in fear as have for so long, that they may find safety, acceptance, and freedom within these walls as citizens of Camelot.

"In the future, I hope that we may come together again as we have tonight, magic and non-magic folk alike, to celebrate our peace and friendship," he looked at Merlin, "for many years to come. So let us begin this new era with a time of fellowship, a feast: the feast of Emrys." Arthur tried not to smile when he saw Merlin's startled expression in his peripheral. "It is only fitting, of course, that Emrys himself would open the celebration with some magic of his own." He turned to look over at Merlin where the warlock sat, totally unsuspecting. "Merlin?"

Merlin was a cornered deer. Use his magic? _In public?_ He wanted to hiss a protest in Arthur's direction, but was too gobsmacked to say anything. Magic? To open a feast? What kind of magic? He glanced over at his mother, who still wore the merlin feather in her hair, but she ducked her head as if to say: _This is your time, my son._ Gaius' eyebrows dictated a similar message. Merlin gulped. All eyes were on him, Arthur watching with particular interest. Time seemed to freeze, just for a moment, and it occurred to Merlin that the tables and fixtures of the room were exceedingly bare. With the smallest of smiles, Merlin looked deliberately at the centerpiece of wildflowers sitting at the king's table.

"_Á__bræde æleþ blóstme."_

A collective gasp rose from the crowd as the flowers sprouted shoots and leaves that spread across the hall in seconds, before the tables, doorframes, and even the chandeliers were all sporting wildflowers of all different colors. There were smiles all around, and a few people applauded. Arthur clapped Merlin on the back before he raised his glass.

"To peace and magic," he said, and the rest of the hall echoed,

"To peace and magic."

"And Merlin!" Gwaine exclaimed after the rest. A round of laughter followed. Merlin blushed and hid his face, but the huge smile gave him away. He stood with the court, and was the first to tip his glass against Arthur's.

As the feast wore on, the food was pushed away to make way for dancing, but Merlin remained resolutely by the sidelines, insisting that his incoordination and lack of instruction would make him a hazard to everyone around him. He smiled as he watched Gwen and Arthur dance together, like the king and queen they were. It was a joy to be by their side; as an ally, an equal. He hoped the coming years would see new familial bonds grow between them. After the song ended, Arthur came up beside Merlin and interrupted the warlock's reverie with a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"That was a pretty trick you did with the flowers, earlier. Gwen seemed to like it." He squinted at his fiancée, who was gliding across the floor and greeting the attending guests with grace and warmth. "You'll have to teach me how to do that sometime."

Merlin snorted. "I'd sure like to see you try, Arthur," He tried to ignore Arthur's offended expression and instead said, "That wasn't a half-bad speech you gave, by the way."

Arthur shrugged the compliment aside, but Merlin could tell he was pleased with himself. "Well, I couldn't have _you_ writing a speech essentially given _to_ you, now could I? I had to branch out on my own writing abilities." He looked especially proud as he said it, but Merlin cocked a speculative eyebrow. Arthur ignored it, but after a few moments of Merlin staring, his expression broke. "Okay. Gwen might've helped."

"Helped?" Merlin was trying not to smile. "How much help?"

"…A little."

"Really."

"…Maybe."

Merlin chuckled, and Arthur sniffed with pronounced royal dignity. After the moment passed, Merlin glanced at Arthur. "Did you mean it, what you said?" He asked, genuinely curious. Arthur turned to face him, serious and not at all embarrassed.

"Every word," he said. The two shared a look, and Merlin nodded. But before he could open that big, wise-worded mouth of his and make any suitably touching, profound comments, Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulders.

"Now come on, _Mer_lin. I'm holding this feast in your honor – I _named _it after you, for Camelot's sake – and I'll be damned if you get away without dancing."

Suddenly every profound thought flew from Merlin's head, and his face went white. "What? No, Arthur, I can't dance!" Sorcerer or not, he was still physically insignificant next to Arthur's strength, and the fact showed as the King dragged him across the floor.

"Sure you can, you're _magic_, remember?" Arthur reminded him, as if this solved everything. Merlin began to protest, but then, as though by some horrible scheme meant to drag him into the pits of humiliation, Gwen appeared out of nowhere, Hunith close by her side.

"Gwen – _mother!"_ Merlin hissed in protest, but Hunith laughed that musical laugh of hers and took her son's hand and pulled him over.

"Come now, Merlin, it's fine. Your father was the one who taught me how to dance, you know," although touched by this revelation, it did nothing to quell Merlin's fears. "Perhaps I can teach you a thing or two. Come on, then." As Hunith lead her famous, gifted, most-powerful-sorcerer-of-all-time son to the dance floor, Merlin glared over his shoulder at the king. Arthur saw it and smiled wider.

"You're horrid, you know," Gwen told him.

"Then so are you," Arthur pointed out. She smiled and took his arm.

"Look at him. Emrys, the all-powerful sorcerer, can't even dance without stepping on toes." Indeed, at the moment, Merlin was wrestling with his robes and his own feet as his mother patiently showed him the steps. "Merlin, Emrys… They're one and the same, aren't they?" she looked up at Arthur, who was still watching Merlin.

"It's always been him, just him – whatever his name is now."

"Merlin Emrys, perhaps?"

"A surname?" Arthur looked down at his fiancée.

"Why not? It suits him."

"Merlin Emrys," Arthur repeated pensively, looking back up at his old friend. "Court Sorcerer. Does have a certain ring too it." Gwen agreed. "Not so much as Queen Guinevere Pendragon, mind you." Arthur added with a smirk. To his delight, Gwen blushed that beautiful, sun kissed shade of pink. Shifting the focus from Merlin, he turned and bowed. "Now, milady, may I have this dance?"

"You most certainly may, milord," she said, sweetly placing her hand in his. He smiled, and they went together over to the swirl of dancing couples near the center of the room – a swirl interrupted, of course, by Merlin's bumbling attempt at the waltz. Arthur had a laugh or two at the warlock's expense, but was glad to see his friend learning the steps quickly.

"You know, Arthur," Gwen told him at some point in the dance, "I don't know if you fully realize how much you've done for this kingdom – for him," she nodded at Merlin.

"No," Arthur agreed, watching the back of Merlin's head, "but I do know how much he's done for me." He looked down at Gwen. "The rest of it has years to play out." The couple smiled at each other and floated away.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Merlin had overheard their exchange and was left smiling because of it, even as he tripped over his own foot for the umpteenth time. He knew that, just like dancing, this new era in Camelot's history would come on a learning curve and would take time. However, just as he knew that he would eventually learn to dance, Merlin knew that Camelot would eventually become the land of magic and unity that Kilgarrah had spoken of so many years ago. And no matter how many times Camelot ended up tripping over her own robes and stepping on his toes, Merlin knew one more thing with absolute certainty:

He wouldn't miss it for the world.

_finis_

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><p><strong>AN: **Well, there you have it, then. Hope you all enjoyed it!

And yes, I know the waltz wasn't invented until centuries and centuries later. My excuse? …_Magic, _of course.

Thanks for reading, and hope to see y'all again when I start to post _A Second Chance_. Until then!


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